


Fortuitous Consequences

by Snapdragon83



Category: Blindspot (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-07 22:25:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 63,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8818510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snapdragon83/pseuds/Snapdragon83
Summary: When Jane and Kurt act on the attraction between them after a near-death experience, they are faced with life-altering consequences. Will the new life they've created bring them closer together—or tear them apart forever?





	1. Chapter 1

I do not own Blindspot or its characters.

* * *

Jane came awake with a soft groan, the pounding in her head simultaneously luring her into wakefulness and making her long for the peacefulness of the oblivion she is

Bed. She was in bed. Her fuzzy brain latched onto that thought, and she groaned again as she attempted to recall how she had gotten here. She slowly attempted to shift into a more comfortable position as she pondered that, but she couldn’t go far, because . . . Oh god. She stilled as she registered the presence of a hard body at her back, a firm arm slung securely over her waist, muscular legs intertwined with her own, realizing she wasn’t alone in this snug oasis just as a very familiar voice said, “You’re awake. Good.”

_“Kurt?”_ Jane breathed in a tone that was equal parts relieved and appalled. She was glad to know she wasn’t in bed with a random stranger, but she was equally uncertain how she had wound up in this predicament with Kurt. How the two of them—who only ever seemed to get along these days when bullets were flying—had wound up this tangled up in one another. She attempted to reason it out, to recall the sequence of events that must have led up to this, but her head still ached so unmercifully that she quickly gave up the attempt. “I think I’m dying.”

In spite of the gravity of the situation, Kurt couldn’t help the bark of laughter that escaped as he extricated himself from Jane and got up. His amusement died as the sound made her wince. “You’re not dying, Jane, just hungover. Though I know from experience the two can feel similar.”

Hungover? She’d gotten drunk? Jane frowned as she attempted to process his words, the pain in her head still making it difficult to entertain rational thought. _“Why . . .?”_ she managed carefully. _“Where . . .?”_

Kurt frowned as he approached her side of the bed. “You don’t remember?” he asked gently. She’d consumed a great deal more alcohol than was good for her—they both had—but he didn’t think she’d drunk enough to black out. He hoped she hadn’t, anyway. He ignored the little voice in the back of his head that suggested that might be the best thing for both of them. More than likely, the memory loss was temporary, a lingering side effect of the alcohol in her system. “About nearly being shot yesterday?” he prompted. “And—”

Jane stilled as his words triggered a flood of memories that overshadowed the pain in her head. “I remember.” Oh, boy, did she remember.

She remembered Kurt running toward her, tackling her to the ground and shielding her with his body as their suspect unleashed a volley of automatic weapon fire on them, several of the bullets missing their heads by mere inches.

She remembered him lingering to drive her home after the paramedics had cleared her, badly shaken, showing a concern that she’d never thought he’d feel toward her again after things had gone so horribly wrong between them. That was probably why she had accepted his offer to stop for drinks on the way.

_Mistake number one,_ she thought now. The last thing either of them had needed when the stress of the day already had them needing an outlet for their emotions was to imbibe a drink that lowered inhibitions. Especially not with one another.

She couldn’t remember whose idea it was initially to relocate to Kurt’s apartment with a bottle of his favorite scotch, but by the time it was suggested, she vividly recalled that they were both in such harmony with one another that they had been in complete agreement that it was an excellent plan.

_Mistake number two._

She remembered taking a seat next to him on the couch, inching closer and closer to him with every glass of scotch she consumed until she was cuddled up against his side. Had he been closing the distance between them as well?

Their eyes had met as she set her glass down that final time, and then their bodies, their lips. She had already been moving to straddle his lap when his arms encircled her fiercely to pull her to him, their mouths meeting in a crash that mirrored the earlier violence of the day, both of them seeking proof of life after nearly losing it.

_Mistake number three._

Jane’s cheeks flamed with color as she remembered exactly how the night had proceeded from there. For a moment, she dared to hope that it had all been a dream—a very vivid dream—but a discreet check of her body quickly put that hope to flight. She was naked under these covers. _Kurt’s_ covers. “We . . . we . . . we . . .” Oh, god. She was never going to be able to look him in the eye again, she realized, as she recalled some of the things they had done, and then groaned as the pain in her head took center stage once more. “Kill me now,” she muttered.

It must have been the lingering effects of the alcohol in his own system, but Kurt found Jane’s embarrassment adorable. “You’re going to be fine, Jane.” He took a seat beside her on the bed and lightly brushed his knuckles against her cheek. “I’ll go get you a glass of water and some ibuprofen. That should make you start to feel better, and then I’d recommend a cool shower. I’ll fix you a piece of toast and a glass of orange juice once you’re done with that.”

“Trust me,” he added, when Jane reluctantly cracked one eye open, looking doubtful at his proposed remedies. “I’ve been through this more than a few times myself, so I’m practically an expert on the subject.” Not that it was an accomplishment to be proud of. He rose. “I’ll be right back with the first part of that cure.”

Jane breathed a sigh of relief once he disappeared from view. Kurt was being more kind than she would have ever expected under the circumstances—not that he wasn’t fifty percent responsible for their current predicament—but she knew it was only a matter of time before the awkwardness of their situation dawned on him as well and forced a very uncomfortable conversation. A conversation she would give anything to avoid. She closed her eyes, hoping that when she opened them again, she would be back in her own home, in her own _bed,_ but no such luck.

“Here you go,” Kurt said as he came back into the room, crossing over to the bedside and dropping the pill into her outstretched hand before setting the glass of water on the nightstand beside her. “Drink it all down, and then go take that shower. The bathroom’s through there,” he said, pointing to the doorway to their right. “And, uh . . . here.” He dropped her clothes he had gathered up on the nightstand beside her.

_Kill me now,_ Jane thought again, but she managed a weak smile. “Thanks, Kurt.”

“You’re welcome, Jane.” He returned her smile before turning toward the door to give her some privacy, sensing her embarrassment and now feeling more than a little discomfited himself. The reality of their situation had begun to dawn on him as he picked up her underwear from the trail of clothes they’d left down the hallway. “I’ll, uh . . . I’ll be out in the living room when you get ready. Take your time.”

Jane nodded, and he exited the room. She eased to a sitting position, waiting before her stomach settled once again before downing the pill and taking a sip of water. It took her almost ten minutes to empty the glass, and nearly thirty more passed before she joined Kurt in the living room.

He was standing with his back to her, staring out the picture window, apparently too lost in thought to hear her approach, and she felt her heart sink at the pensive expression on his face. Clearly, their détente was over, and hostilities were about to resume, but she hadn’t realized until this moment just how much she missed his friendship. “So is this the part where we concede that last night was a mistake, and agree never to speak of it again?” she asked softly, hoping against hope that he would say _no._ Or at least, when he said _yes,_ that he would confess to missing her too.

Kurt turned slowly. “Jane. How are you feeling?” he inquired, sidestepping her question. He had never been good at mornings’ after under normal circumstances—not that he’d had all that much practice—and this situation was so far out of the ordinary that he had no clue how to begin to navigate it. She had just given him an out most men would kill for, but somehow it felt cowardly to take it. Even if every word of it was true.

“Better,” Jane admitted. “My head doesn’t feel like it’s going to explode any longer, and my stomach’s settled down some. I still don’t feel great, though.”

“Well, sleep’s the best remedy of all,” Kurt offered as he moved toward the kitchen. “Fortunately, today is Saturday, so we don’t have to go into work. Let me get you that toast and juice, and then I’ll drive you home, and you can get some rest.”

Apparently she’d been wrong: hostilities weren’t about to resume; instead, he was choosing to hide behind a wall of polite indifference that stung worse than all the cutting words he’d leveled at her since she rejoined the team. At least that reaction had been _honest._ “You don’t have to do that,” Jane responded as she took a seat at the kitchen counter, watching as Kurt prepared her breakfast. “I’m sure you’re more than ready to see the last of me, so I can call a cab.”

Kurt sucked in a breath. Jane’s words had been uttered matter-of-factly, without any hint of malice or accusation, but they nonetheless struck him on the raw. He had been horrified when he’d woken to discover what he’d done—what _they’d_ done—but he had accepted his culpability in the matter and had resolved to treat her with the same dignity and respect he had every other woman who had been a guest in his home. In his bed. “What do you want from me, Jane?” he demanded sharply. “You said yourself that this was a mistake.”

Actually, she had asked him if _he_ thought it was, but she guessed she had her answer now. And it was. Of course it was. The two of them were like fire and gasoline; they had no business interacting on a personal level, but their near-death experience yesterday had provided the spark which had ignited passions both had been doing their level best to ignore. The resulting conflagration had been inevitable. “We let our emotions get the best of us,” she agreed dully. “It won’t happen again.”

It _couldn’t_ happen again. “No,” Kurt said with far more assurance than he felt. It was just his luck that after a lifetime of being _too choosy_ , he’d finally met the one woman who held his interest like no other, only to have her be all wrong for him. Or maybe it was that wrongness that provided the allure. Whatever the reason, there was something about Jane that drew him in like a moth to a flame, and as much as he’d like to think he’d learned his lesson this time, he had an uncomfortable feeling that he was likely to get singed again.

Theirs was hardly a safe line of work, after all. Yesterday’s was unlikely to be the last close call they faced, and unless he found a way to shore up his defenses against her, the line they were currently attempting to redraw between them might as well be etched in quicksand. It was not an encouraging thought. He buttered her toast and slid it and her juice across to her. “Eat your breakfast, Jane. I’ll drive you home.”

Jane nodded as she obediently took her first bite. Anything to get her out of here faster. The toast was a perfectly done golden brown, but it could have been cardboard for all she tasted it. She choked it down as quickly as possible and chased it down with the orange juice, feeling Kurt’s eyes on her all the while. She shoved her plate and glass toward him the moment she was done and stood hastily. “I’m ready to—” The room spun crazily, and she made a grab for a counter that was no longer in arm’s reach as her knees began to give way on her.

“Jane!” Kurt took a hasty step toward her as Jane’s face turned white, and he pulled her into his arms to steady her, holding her tightly against his chest, feeling the involuntary tremors shaking her body as she struggled to regain control of her limbs. “Maybe you should sit back down,” he suggested, turning them back toward the stool she had just vacated.

“No!” Jane stiffened, resisting his direction. Trying to ignore how good it felt to be back in his arms. “I’m fine now. I just . . . I stood up too fast, that’s all.” One more crowning humiliation to top yesterday’s stupidity. Or this morning’s, depending on how you looked at it. “I’d like . . . can we just go now, please?” She tugged back from Kurt’s hold, and he reluctantly let her go, but kept an arm loosely around her waist to steady her as he acceded to her request and they started for the door.

She paused in the doorway, wanting to put this matter entirely behind her before they exited the apartment. Wanting what had happened within these walls to stay completely within these walls. “So we . . . we just pretend this never happened, right? We don’t ever mention it again. Not . . . not even to each other.”

“I think that’s for the best,” Kurt agreed, feeling an odd pang in his chest at the notion. Well, at least she hadn’t said to _forget_ it ever happened. Because there was no way he would ever be able to do that. Every moment of last night was already indelibly etched on his memory.

Jane smiled ironically. “I just realized . . . I think that might be the first thing we’ve agreed on since . . . since I came back to the team. I’d say we should have a toast to celebrate, but all things considered . . .”

“I think we should lay off the alcohol for a while,” Kurt said dryly. “How about we shake on it instead?” He held out his hand.

“To . . .” Jane paused to consider what she wanted to say. “To one secret that it’s good to keep. May it stay buried forever.” She grasped Kurt’s hand and the two of them shook on it, once again in perfect harmony. At least on this subject.

Fate, however, was not.


	2. Chapter 2

I do not own Blindspot or its characters.

* * *

_Six weeks later_

This day had just gone from bad to worse. Jane felt her footsteps falter as she approached the elevator in the lobby of the NYO and saw Sarah Weller standing there with Sawyer. She was just wondering if she could slip past them unnoticed and take the stairs when Sarah looked over and saw her, her face sporting the same comically dismayed expression Jane was sure she was now wearing as well. Though in her case, the dismay had less to do with Sarah’s presence and everything to do with the steaming cup of coffee in her hand. Her stomach had been less than appreciative of the smell of that beverage of late.

As it had of most things she put in it these days. At least in the mornings. This was the strangest stomach flu that she’d ever had. Not that she had much practice being sick. She was generally healthy as . . . well, as a horse, which made it so puzzling that she had come down with this while everyone else was perfectly fine. Or maybe they were hiding their illness like she had been doing. Though unlike her, they would have little reason to need to do so. She, on the other hand, couldn’t afford to show any weakness in front of her team. Or her _handlers_ , she supposed she should say. They were hardly a cohesive unit any longer.

“Jane,” Sarah greeted coolly as the woman approached. Kurt had mentioned that he was working with her again, but she would be lying if she said she hadn’t been hoping that she wouldn’t run into her on this impromptu visit back East. She didn’t know how her brother could stand the sight of her after what she had done.

“Sarah,” Jane returned as she halted several feet from where Sarah was standing, taking care not to get too close so the smell of the coffee wouldn’t cause her to lose what little breakfast she had been able to choke down. She would definitely be taking a different elevator. From the look on Sarah’s face, she would appreciate that consideration anyway. “Kurt didn’t mention you were coming to New York.”

Not that he would have—to her, at least. Things had been . . . awkward between them since their ill-advised one-night stand. They had ceased sniping at one another—or rather, Kurt had quit and Jane had finally given it up because he wouldn’t respond to any of her gibes—but they were more like polite strangers now than coworkers, or former friends, or one-time lovers. She found herself missing the passion of their previous relationship, even if it had been fueled by hate. This new dynamic was almost bloodless and left her feeling strangely . . . unsettled.

“He doesn’t know,” Sarah replied tightly, jabbing the button for the elevator once more, wishing it would hurry up. Then realizing that even when it arrived, she would be forced to share it with Jane, who was no doubt getting off on the same floor. “I got a long weekend off work, so I decided to fly in and surprise him.”

“That’s wonderful,” Patterson exclaimed, coming up behind them just as the elevator doors opened and beaming as she hugged Sarah before the two of them and Sawyer stepped aboard. “I know he’ll be thrilled to see you. Jane, are you coming?”

Jane’s stomach lurched at the sight of both of their cups of coffee. If she got into an enclosed space with the two of them right now, it was not going to be pretty. “No thanks. I think I’ll wait for the next one.” Or take the stairs. Yeah, that was probably safer. Even if that was more exertion than she had the energy for at the moment. Despite going to bed early and sleeping the night through, she had awoken as exhausted as if she had never slept a wink. This flu was really starting to take a toll on her. Maybe she needed to consider seeing a doctor.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sarah said sharply, reaching out a hand to keep the elevator doors from sliding shut. “We’re all adults here, and we’re going to the same place. We can ride a few floors on the same elevator in peace. Come on.”

There seemed to be no help for it, so after one last desperate attempt to think of a reasonable excuse, Jane stepped aboard. Bile rose in her throat the moment the doors closed, and she concentrated on breathing as shallowly as possible as the elevator rose with agonizing slowness toward their floor, doing her best to focus on Patterson’s conversation with Sarah to distract herself from her increasing nausea, but by the time the elevator reached their floor, she knew she was fighting a losing battle.

“Jane?” Patterson asked in concern as she glanced over and saw the white, set expression on the other woman’s face. “Are you oka—”

She never got a chance to finish her question, because the moment the elevator doors started to slide open, Jane brushed past her and bolted through them, nearly knocking down a man who was waiting to get on and racing for the bathroom that was thankfully located close by.

Patterson exchanged glances with Sarah, and both of them hurried after her. “Mom?” Sawyer asked in alarm as he raced to keep up with them. “What’s wrong with her?”

“I don’t know, sweetie,” Sarah said, bending down and tousling his hair reassuringly, “but I’m sure it’s nothing serious. Agent Patterson and I are going to go check on her, all right?” Patterson had already gone ahead, in fact. “You wait right here. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Jane felt her humiliation was complete as she felt Patterson brush her hair back from her face as she leaned over the nearest toilet and lost the meager contents of her stomach, retching until there was nothing left to come up. She was just beginning to feel that she could sit up when Sarah approached, cup of coffee still in hand, and the whole process began all over again.

“Jane?” Patterson rubbed her back gently as the heaving slowed but Jane didn’t raise her head. “Do you want me to go get Dr. Borden?”

“No,” Jane managed to choke out. “It’s just . . . coffee. The smell makes me sick.”

Patterson’s and Sarah’s eyes widened and the look that passed between them defied description before Sarah hurried over to the sink to dispose of her coffee, dumping the cup Patterson had left sitting there as well and throwing both in the trash. Jane was sitting up when she returned and her heart went out to the other woman at the misery on her face. She knew _exactly_ how she felt. “How far along are you?”

“Far along?” Jane frowned, not understanding. “Oh, you mean how long have I had this flu? I’ve been fighting it for a week or so, I guess, mostly in the mornings, but it comes and goes. I wish it would just _go,_ ” she added mournfully. Sarah and Patterson exchanged another meaningful look and her frown deepened. “What?”

“Jane, sweetie . . . the symptoms you’re describing aren’t typical of the flu,” Sarah said gently. Hadn’t her mother taught her _anything_? “It sounds to me as if . . .” She paused and looked over at Patterson, hoping the other woman would take the lead on this since she knew Jane better, but the blonde simply shook her head, motioning for her to continue. “Is it possible that you’re . . . pregnant?”

 _Pregnant?_ A laugh bubbled up in Jane’s throat at the absurdity of the notion, sure Sarah was joking, but it died before she could ever utter it as she registered the serious expression on both women’s faces. “What? No. _No!_ ” she repeated with more force, as if she could make the problem go away with the vehemence of her denial. Not that there was such a problem; of course there wasn’t. It was _impossible_. But almost as soon as she thought that, her mind went back to her night with Kurt and she realized . . .

The two of them hadn’t used protection. Had been so caught up in one another, in the moment, that neither of them had even thought of it.

“No,” she repeated again more weakly as the truth began to dawn on her. “No.” Her last word was almost inaudible, even to her own ears, but she clung to the increasingly slim possibility that they could be mistaken, and her voice strengthened. “But it could . . . it could be the flu, right? Maybe some weird version of it? With symptoms that mimic . . .” She couldn’t bring herself to utter the word _pregnancy._ Saying it out loud would make it real, and while deep down she knew the truth, she wasn’t ready to acknowledge it yet. Wasn’t ready to face the fact that there was a tiny life growing inside of her now, a part of her and of Kurt that would link them together irrevocably. “I mean . . . it’s possible, right? This could all just be a . . .”

 _A mistake_ , she started to say, but the words died on her lips. Because no matter how much their actions that night had been so, she would never call her unborn child that. Would never even _think_ it. She crossed her arms over her middle in an unconscious gesture of protection as she waited for their response.

She had never heard of such a thing, but Patterson smiled reassuringly at Jane as she stood, sensing she needed to cling to that illusion for just a little while longer. “Sure, Jane. I suppose that’s possible. I could . . . if you’d like, you can come back to my lab, and I can run a blood test to tell for certain. I should be able to get the results back fairly quickly.”

She wouldn’t _like_ , but she supposed she couldn’t afford to bury her head in the sand. After all, she certainly couldn’t run from the problem, and if she really was . . . pregnant, in nine months, it would arrive no matter what she did. Unless she had an abortion.

“Would you like me to come along?” Sarah asked, surprised to hear herself making the offer and even more so to realize that every trace of her anger had been replaced by genuine concern for Jane’s well-being. She knew how overwhelming news like this could be under normal circumstances, and judging from Jane’s reaction when she broached the subject, it wasn’t an entirely welcome possibility.

It didn’t appear to be even a _remotely_ welcome possibility. She had seen the flash of fear in Jane’s eyes when her suggestion registered, and she couldn’t help wondering what kind of man she was with that would inspire such a reaction to what should be joyous news. Her ex had turned out to be a dud in the boyfriend department, but if he had one redeeming quality, it was that he had been supportive of her during her pregnancy and loved Sawyer more than life itself.

Kurt’s sister was probably the last person she should be accepting moral support from at this moment but Jane nodded to her gratefully as she rose to follow Patterson. After all, she had no one else in the world who cared about her—certainly no one else who had been through this already and could give her some guidance. She wasn’t about to apologize for taking that when it was offered.

Jane sighed as the realities of the situation began to intrude on her. She was potentially pregnant by a man whom she was not and never would be in a relationship with and who had every reason in the world to despise her, a man whose career could—and probably would—take a huge hit if the truth got out. A man who had already made it clear to her that he was unlikely to ever choose to have kids, no matter how much he might want them.

And she . . . Well, to say nothing in her upbringing prepared her to be a candidate for mother of the year was a _huge_ understatement. She knew how to fight, how to shoot, how to _kill_ —not how to rear a child with the love and nurturing it deserved to grow up to be a well-adjusted human being. Terminating the pregnancy would probably be for the best, but she was surprised to discover how much the idea pained her, even though she had only learned of it moments before. Even though she didn’t have proof positive yet that she _was_ pregnant.

But she knew. Deep down, she knew, and she was already finding the idea of having a little someone she could come home to every night and whom she could love—and be loved by—unconditionally, nearly irresistible. The timing couldn’t be worse, she knew, with the dangers she faced every day in this job, especially now that she was a triple agent in Shepherd’s organization, but even though it was undoubtedly selfish, she couldn’t deny that she wanted this baby regardless. Wanted this piece of herself and Kurt that no one could ever take away from her.

 _Kurt._ Jane’s breath caught in her throat as she realized for the first time that she was going to have to face him and tell him of the unintended consequences of what they had done. What his reaction would be she couldn’t even fathom, but she was all but certain they wouldn’t see eye-to-eye on the subject. Not that she could blame him for that. She would just have to reassure him that she was more than willing to raise this baby on her own if need be, that she would keep her word to him to never divulge what they had done to another living soul.

“Mom?” Sawyer asked as they exited the bathroom. “Is she okay? Are we going to see Uncle Kurt now?”

“Actually, Sawyer, your uncle is in an early-morning meeting with his boss this morning,” Patterson told him before Sarah could speak. “So you and your mom are going to come hang out in my lab for a bit while we try to help Jane, if that’s okay with you.”

Pellington was back in town? _Terrific_ , Jane thought sourly as Sawyer shrugged his agreement, and the four of them fortunately made it to Patterson’s office without encountering Reade or Zapata. The last thing she needed was one of them getting wind of this before she found a way to pull Kurt aside and tell him what was going on. A feat that was going to be exponentially more difficult with his sister and nephew here to visit him. Hopefully, she would be able to convince Patterson to keep it quiet until she was able to break the news to him. Preferably _after_ Pellington left once more.

Sawyer settled himself in a corner with a video game, and once Patterson had drawn Jane’s blood and put it into one of her machines for testing, the three of them settled into chairs nearby to wait. “So, Jane,” she said, hoping she wasn’t overstepping her bounds by broaching this subject but too curious not to try, “I have to admit, this is quite a surprise. I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.” Didn’t know when she found the time with her frequent nightly meetings with Roman. Or maybe those meetings were more . . . friendly than Jane had let on.

“Oh, um . . .” Jane blushed as she floundered for a response to Patterson’s implied question. She should have been expecting this, as it was the most natural thing in the world for people who knew her to wonder, but somehow it caught her off-guard. “I, um . . . we . . . well, that is . . . you see . . .” She took a deep breath. “It’s complicated,” she said finally. The understatement of the century, but the only thing she could tell them at this point without potentially giving too much away.

Sarah smiled sympathetically. “Isn’t it always.” She studied Jane closely, noticing the faint shadows under her eyes. “You’ve been tired a lot lately, haven’t you?”

It was more a statement than a question, but Jane nodded anyway. Though that had as much to do with her nightmares—which thankfully hadn’t woken her last night—as her potential current condition. Or she supposed at this point, she might as well just give up the pretense and call it what it was. She was pregnant.

“Any other symptoms of pregnancy?” Sarah wanted to know. She expounded on a few at Jane’s blank look, and Jane’s cheeks burned as she confirmed several of them. “Well,” she said as she leaned back in her chair, “the test results will tell the tale for sure, but there’s no doubt in my mind that you are pregnant.”

“But the test results will tell you how far along you are,” Patterson supplied helpfully, smiling at Jane to soften the blow of that news but relieved to see that she had apparently come to terms with it.

 _No need for that,_ Jane thought. She knew _exactly_ how far along she was. Not that she would admit that to the two of them. “You can tell that from a _test_?” she asked in disbelief.

“It has to do with the levels of the hormone hCG in your blood,” Sarah told her. “It typically doubles every three days in the first trimester of pregnancy, so by measuring the levels in your blood, it will give a pretty good indication of how far along you are. But you’ll want to make an appointment with your OB/GYN as soon as possible.”

Jane’s face told her she didn’t have one of those and Sarah was just opening her mouth to make a recommendation when Sawyer interrupted them. “Mom?” he asked, and she was startled to see he had come up beside her and had been listening to them. “Miss Jane’s pregnant?”

“That’s right, honey.” Sarah tousled his hair affectionately. “She has a baby growing in her tummy and in about nine months when it gets big enough, it will come into the world and join us.”

 _If she lived that long_ , Jane thought dryly. If Shepherd’s organization didn’t find her out as a traitor and kill her, Kurt might just want to when he learned what was in store for him. Of course, he was under no obligation to be in the baby’s life, she reminded herself. Though for their child’s sake, she hoped he would choose to do so. She hadn’t been lying when she told him she thought he’d make a great dad.

Sawyer nodded, his brow furrowing, but before he could ask any more questions, the machine beeped, signaling the test was complete, and Sarah and Jane followed Patterson over to her computer to get the results.

“Well, Jane,” Patterson said when she’d finished doing the math, “you’re definitely pregnant. About six weeks, by my calculations. Congratulations.” She hugged her warmly, and Sarah followed suit.

“Thanks,” Jane said weakly. She’d known that, of course, but still to hear Patterson confirm it . . . She looked from her to Sarah. “Umm . . . I would appreciate it if you would let me tell Kurt and the others about this. I’ll do it soon; I promise,” she added, mostly for Patterson’s benefit.

“Of course,” both of them chorused, and just in the nick of time, too; the words had no sooner left their mouths than Reade stuck his head in the door.

“Hey, Patterson, have you seen—Oh, hey, Sarah,” he greeted. “Kurt didn’t mention that you were in town.”

“He doesn’t know,” Sarah told him. “We decided to surprise him, but he was in a meeting when we arrived, so we’ve just been hanging out here with Patterson and Jane.”

“He wrapped that up about fifteen minutes ago,” Reade told her. “If you want to come with me, I’ll take you to him. And Jane, he’s been looking for you.”

Fantastic. Jane trailed behind Reade and the Wellers, and Patterson fell into step beside her. “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered to her. “Weller will support your decision; you’ll see.”

Jane glanced at her, startled, before realizing she was talking about the professional ramifications of her pregnancy rather than the personal ones. She had no idea of the dual meaning behind her words. Jane only hoped they would prove to be prophetic.

Kurt was standing with Pellington and Nas and Zapata when they entered the bullpen, and Jane watched his face light up as he spotted Sarah and Sawyer, relieved to have time to observe him without being the focus of his attention. It felt incredibly different looking at him now knowing he was the father of her unborn baby—the child he didn’t yet know she was carrying—than it had just twenty-four hours ago. She wouldn’t have wished this on them, but at the same time, she wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“I hope you weren’t too bored waiting all this time,” Kurt said to Sarah once the excitement had died down. “Of course, if I had known you were coming . . .”

She smiled at the gentle teasing in his voice. “I wasn’t bored at all. I’ve been having a great time hanging out with Agent Patterson and Jane.”

Kurt glanced over at Jane, surprised by his sister’s words, and she felt color flood her cheeks as their eyes met. “Well, I hope she wasn’t too much trouble,” he joked. “Thanks for keeping her occupied for me.”

She should be the one thanking _him._ Sarah had been a godsend. “No problem,” she replied.

“Miss Jane?” Sawyer spoke up, still plagued by the questions he hadn’t got the chance to ask. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, Sawyer,” Jane said, bending down to his level and missing Sarah’s frantic head shake _no_. “What is it?”

“How did the baby get in your tummy?” Sawyer asked innocently. “And how will it get out when it’s big enough?”

Jane froze. For the span of several heartbeats, she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe—and the silence that fell over the group was equally deafening. And then all hell broke loose.

Kurt stiffened, feeling as if he’d been sucker punched, certain Sawyer must have misunderstood. Jane _couldn’t_ be pregnant, not now, not so soon after . . . Oh, god. His eyes closed briefly as realization swept over him. He hadn’t used a condom that night, not even once. Had never even thought of it. He locked his eyes on Jane, willing her to look at him, to give him some sign if his suspicions were correct, but she kept her gaze averted. Which he supposed was confirmation enough in and of itself.

Pellington and Nas exchanged glances, Nas’s inscrutable, Pellington’s openly disdainful. Reade’s mouth fell open slightly as he glanced from Jane to Sarah to Patterson, reading the truth in their eyes. Sawyer returned to Sarah's side, confused by everyone’s sudden silence. She gave him a reassuring smile as she leaned down to whisper, “We’ll talk about this at home, kiddo.”

Zapata was the first of those who hadn’t known to recover her voice. “You’re _pregnant?_ ” she demanded in a tone that sounded as if the deed was right up there with mass murder in her book. Which it probably was. “And you didn’t tell _us?_ ”

Jane straightened up slowly, keeping her gaze on Sarah and Patterson. She could feel Kurt’s eyes on her, but she didn’t dare look in his direction. “I am,” she confirmed. “But I wasn’t keeping it from you. I only just found out a little while ago myself. I . . . I’ve been bothered by the smell of food lately and nauseated in the mornings, but I had no idea that . . . I thought I just had the flu.”

“The _flu?_ ” Zapata demanded scornfully. “Those are classic signs of morning sickness. What rock did you live under before you crawled out of that bag? Or were you raised by wolves?”

Pretty much. Actually, come to think of it, being raised by wolves might have been a step up from her upbringing. Not that Zapata knew anything about that. Or any of the team, for that matter. They knew she had recovered some of her memories, but they no longer cared enough to ask what they were about.

“You said you just found out this morning?” Reade asked, seeing Sarah’s eyes flash at Zapata’s insensitivity and hoping to avert a catfight between those two. “How far along are you?”

Jane closed her eyes as her breath caught in her throat. Talk about being put on the spot. There was no way she could dodge that question, but once she answered it, Kurt would know he had to be the father. This wasn’t how she had wanted him to find out, not at all.

“According to the blood test I ran, she’s about six weeks,” Patterson replied, seeing Jane apparently too overwhelmed to respond.

“So who’s the father?” Zapata wanted to know. “Oh, wait, let me guess. _Roman._ Tell me, does he know he’s going to be a daddy yet? Is he overjoyed, or does he think it’s a mistake too and want you to get rid of it?”

Jane took a deep breath, determined not to let Zapata’s taunts get to her. She understood the other woman was still hurting, but so was she. But nothing good would come of attempting to justify herself. “Roman will support me in whatever decision I make,” she said evenly and saw Kurt stiffen out of the corner of her eye. And he would. As a _friend._ Even if he would no doubt disapprove of it.

Zapata snorted. “You do realize the odds are good he’ll be having to do that from behind bars, right? So what’s your plan here, Jane? Have the kid and haul it up to prison on visiting days to see its daddy through the glass? God, what is it with you and these guys? You say you want us to trust you, but how are we ever supposed to do that when you keep pulling stunts like this? First Oscar, now Roman. But at least the first one apparently had the good sense to use protection. This one must be a real dumbass.”

“Zapata, _stop!_ ” Kurt barked, finding his voice at last, seeing Reade restrain his sister as Sarah took a furious step forward. “That’s enough. You owe Jane an apology.” And him, though he could hardly refute anything she’d said on that score. He was a dumbass.

Zapata opened her mouth to protest, but the furious glare Kurt drilled her with convinced her discretion was the better part of valor. “I’m sorry,” she said stiffly.

“It’s okay, Zapata,” Jane assured her. “I understand.” Kurt had told her once that it took time to move on from losing a loved one, and experience was proving to be a rather painful teacher of that. No one stopped to consider that she was hurting too. That not only had she lost everyone she had been privileged to call friends, she had lost Mayfair too. She might not have known her as long or as well as them, but she _had_ cared. She did care.

She just didn’t know what else she could do to show them that.

“There’s something I need to say in Jane’s defense,” Kurt continued, and had the satisfaction of finally seeing Jane’s eyes fly up to meet his, her expression confirming that he was right. Not that he’d had any doubts, though it irked him that she had fostered, rather than corrected, Zapata’s mistaken assumption. He was the only man that baby would ever be calling _daddy_.

“Kurt—” Jane said softly, trying to communicate without words that he didn’t need to do this. That he shouldn’t throw away the career he loved, the position he so justly deserved, just to defend her honor without considering all the ramifications of it carefully.

“It’s okay, Jane,” he assured her with a lopsided smile. “I need to do this. I _want_ to. Trust me.” He turned back to the group, who were now watching him with a mixture of shock and suspicion—and in his sister’s case, _hope_ —and took a deep breath. “Roman isn’t this baby’s father.”

“And how do you know that, Assistant Director Weller?” Pellington demanded. As if he didn’t already know.

“Because it’s mine.” Kurt walked over to Jane and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, feeling her tremble beneath his touch and press back into him ever so slightly. He met Pellington’s gaze squarely. “I’m the baby’s father.”


	3. Chapter 3

I do not own Blindspot or its characters.

Kurt turned to Jane in the deafening silence following his pronouncement. “We should probably talk. Come with me to my office?”

Jane was just starting to nod when Pellington snapped, “No, Assistant Director Weller, _we_ need to talk.” He glanced at Nas to make it clear that included her and shot Jane a withering look that had her shrinking further back into Kurt to make it clear that it didn’t. “ _Now._ ”

“It’s okay, Kurt,” Jane said softly as he stiffened, forcing a smile that she was very far from feeling onto her face so he wouldn’t try to argue and make this situation worse. What he had just done was stupid and sweet and incredible, the most wonderful thing anyone had ever done for her, and the last thing she wanted was for him to lose his job over it. She needed him here. She glanced around at the other shell-shocked faces. They _all_ did.

“We can talk later,” she added as he ran his hand down her arm and took her hand, squeezing it gently to reassure him, her action suggesting an intimacy between them to the others that was very far from the case. “I’ll be here when you get done.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about, Jane, big brother,” Sarah piped up, her eyes suspiciously moist. “I’ll take her out shopping while you’re doing that, get her some foods to help with the nausea.” And grill her on the details of her relationship with Kurt. He hadn’t said a word, the sly dog. No doubt because he thought she wouldn’t approve. Which she wouldn’t have, she supposed, before getting the opportunity to observe her this morning, but now . . . she was warming to the possibility more with every passing minute.

Her brother needed someone in his life, and he was clearly smitten with Jane.

In fact, she couldn’t recall him ever looking at a woman the way he was currently gazing at her.

Kurt smiled gratefully at Sarah before her words registered, and he recalled Jane saying she had been sick quite a bit recently. No, not sick, he corrected himself. _Pregnant._ With his child. And he hadn’t noticed, had never even seen one thing out of the ordinary, leaving her to deal with this all on her own. _Find out_ all on her own. Or at least, without him. “Jane?” he asked. “Are you okay?”

He realized what a stupid question that was the moment he uttered it. He’d been referring as much to her going shopping with Sarah as to how she was feeling, but given the reason for it . . . there was no way she could be _okay_ with that. There was no way she could be _okay_ with any of it.

“I’m fine, Kurt,” Jane said reassuringly as Pellington shifted impatiently. “I could use something to eat, actually, so this is probably for the best. We’ll talk later.”

She squeezed his hand once more before releasing it, and Kurt reluctantly turned to follow Pellington, resisting the urge to look back over his shoulder at her, feeling like he was failing her once more by leaving her now. At least Sarah had shown an inclination to stick up for her, and Patterson seemed sympathetic as well.

“Well,” Pellington said as he and Nas took a seat at the table in Kurt’s office and he motioned for Kurt to join them, “it’s a good thing I flew into town today. This is quite a mess you’ve made, _Assistant Director Weller._ Care to explain yourself?”

Kurt winced at the job title he had never wanted. At the _job_ he had never wanted. He remained standing. “Sir, my personal life . . .”

“Becomes my business when it affects the running of this office,” Pellington snapped. “What were you thinking? Out of all the women in New York, you decide to screw around with and impregnate _her_?” He softened his tone as Kurt’s face hardened. Alienating him wouldn’t do any of them any good at this point. “You need to face the facts, Weller. That woman out there is not someone you set up shop and play house with. She’s a _killer_ , or have you forgotten what happened to your predecessor? You’ve got a tiger by the tail, son.”

“I think that’s a bit harsh, Director,” Nas intervened before Kurt could deliver the scathing defense of Jane that was clearly on the tip of his tongue. “I’ve worked with Jane Doe for several months now, and while we don’t see eye-to-eye on a lot of issues, I’ve observed her in enough high-stress situations to know she’s no _killer._ In If anything, she goes out of her way to avoid pulling the trigger, if at all possible, and she’s expressed genuine remorse to me over Mayfair’s death several times. In fact, I would venture to say she has one of the strongest moral compasses of anyone I’ve ever worked with.”

“And Jane didn’t kill Mayfair,” Kurt added as he finally took a seat, relieved to have, if not an ally in this, at least an unbiased opinion. “Granted, her death might have been preventable if Jane had confided in us—” in _him,_ “—but let’s not forget she was trying to protect us.” To protect _him._ “Oscar pulled that trigger, not her.”

“Oscar,” Pellington said dryly. “The former fiancé. By all means, let’s not forget about him. He ordered her to get close to you, didn’t he, if memory serves? I’d say she’s done a bang-up job of that. I hate to play devil’s advocate here, when you clearly want to bask in the joy of the moment, but how can you be so certain that she’s come over to our side, that any affection she claims to feel for you isn’t the result of her following orders from the group where her allegiances still lie? That this pregnancy isn’t just a ruse to divide your loyalties, or distract you, or . . . or God only knows what, while they get ready to carry out their plan?”

Because she wasn’t claiming to feel any affection for him. And it had been _his_ suggestion that they go out for drinks, that they go back to his apartment that night, not hers. In fact, since returning to the team, she hadn’t made the slightest overture to him before or since. And _joy_ was far from his predominant emotion at the moment. He was still in shock at the news, completely overwhelmed by the realization that he was going to be a dad, concerned for Jane, and worried about how the two of them would deal with the changes that were coming when they were barely on speaking terms. Not that he could tell Pellington any of that. Or would.

Kurt's mouth tightened stubbornly. “It’s not like that. _She’s_ not like that.” Jane had never deliberately manipulated his emotions at the group’s behest. She had _refused_ Oscar’s orders to get closer to him and to break him up with Allie. If only she had come clean with him in the beginning, they might be a couple today. It might be the joyous occasion Pellington had assumed it was. Not that a part of him wasn’t excited about the baby. It was just that . . . God, his thoughts were a muddle. What a complicated mess.

“Fine,” Pellington yielded, switching tacks. “Let’s assume for the sake of argument that she really is everything the two of you say she is. You do realize that this pregnancy could potentially sign her death warrant, right? She’s undercover in one of the most dangerous organizations we’ve ever tried to bring down, and we can’t pull her out. I don’t know how serious this thing is between you two, Weller, but if you care for Jane at all, you’ll convince her to terminate this pregnancy. You can always try again later if you want to when—” _if_ , “—she makes it through this.”

Kurt sucked in a breath, his heart stopping in his chest for a beat as Pellington’s words revealed another aspect to the situation that he hadn’t even thought of. The fate of the nation hung on Jane’s ability to get them the information they needed to stop this group, but being pregnant could seriously hamper her power to do so . . . not to mention her capacity to defend herself if things went sideways.

And if anything were to happen to her because of that . . . well, he might as well have put a gun to her head himself and pulled the trigger.

“Christ,” Pellington said as he saw Weller’s expression, as he began to put together some of the pieces of this morning’s puzzle that hadn’t quite made sense to him. “You’re not in a relationship at all, are you? If you were, one of you would have been staying over at the other’s, and you would have known about her morning sickness. You would have figured this out before today. You’ve just jeopardized this entire operation for . . . what, a one-night stand, a casual fling?”

He looked to Weller, but the younger man’s head was bowed and he didn’t respond. “Christ,” he said again as he rose to his feet and began to pace.

“It might not be as bad as all that,” Nas spoke up suddenly, and both men looked at her. “Look . . . if Jane does choose to terminate the pregnancy, then no harm, no foul. But if she _wants_ the baby, that can work to our advantage as well.”

“How so?” Pellington asked, intrigued enough to resume his seat.

Nas’s eyes gleamed. “You said it yourself earlier,” she pointed out. “One of this group’s main objectives was for Jane to get as close to Kurt as possible, and you can’t get much closer to a man than having his baby. The group gave up on that part of the plan after the whole Taylor Shaw debacle, but it’s hard to imagine that if Jane were able to accomplish that now, to gain Weller’s trust back, they would view it as anything other than a win. It could go a long way to reestablishing her value to them.”

Kurt stiffened. “If you think I’m going to sit here and let you use Jane and our unborn child as bargaining chips to—”

“If you think you have any say in the matter any longer, _Assistant Director Weller_ , you’ve got another think coming,” Pellington interrupted smoothly. “It was your failure to keep your pants zipped that got us into this mess, and you can hardly fault us for making the best of it. And need I remind you that your first loyalty is to the FBI and the country you’ve sworn to serve and protect, and that these people—and quite possibly Jane Doe herself—are enemies of that oath?”

Kurt half-rose, eyes blazing, furious at the insinuation that not only might Jane be a traitor, but he himself was suspect as well by association. Not to mention their _child_.

“Enough!” Nas snapped before this could get any more out of hand, feeling for all the world like a kindergarten teacher wrangling a couple of contentious five-year-olds. “Weller, sit down! Director—” she leveled him with a steely glare, “—remarks like that aren’t helpful. Jane has done everything we’ve asked since returning to this team and has put her life on the line time and time again to protect both us and innocent civilians; whatever mistakes she’s made in the past for whatever reasons, I think she’s earned the benefit of the doubt at this point.”

Pellington nodded tightly, conceding the point, and she turned to Kurt. “And Weller . . . I wasn’t suggesting that we place Jane or your child in harm’s way any more than they already are. Obviously if Jane chooses to have the baby, we’ll take every precaution to minimize the risk, but as the Director said, we can’t pull her out. There’s simply too much at stake here.”

Kurt scrubbed a hand across his face. “I know,” he admitted after a long moment. And his actions had just raised those stakes to a level that was almost unbearable. Never before had his personal and professional lives been so intertwined. In fact, until Jane came into his life, they had never been entangled at all. It was almost enough to make him hope she chose not to have the baby.

Almost, but not quite.

Which brought him back to where he’d been when he came in here. He looked over at Nas. “So I guess I need to talk to Jane.”

“Yes,” Nas agreed, “and when you do . . .” She hesitated. “In order to sell this to Shepherd’s organization . . . Weller, in order to sell this to them, you and Jane would need to move in together.”

Kurt swallowed hard as the bottom officially fell out of his day.

He really, really hoped Jane’s morning was going better than his.

xxx

Jane’s morning had taken a turn for the better.

In fact, it had begun to improve the moment she and Sarah left the FBI. She let out a sigh of relief as they exited the building, and Kurt’s sister smiled at her sympathetically as she led the way to her rental car.

“Kind of feels like you can breathe again, huh?” Sarah asked. “It must be difficult coming to work every day knowing you’re going to face that kind of animosity.” She’d been stunned to observe the dynamic between Jane and Tasha, and her respect for Jane had grown by leaps and bounds at how she had handled it—as had her resolve to speak to her brother about the situation. That kind of stress was _not_ going to be good for the baby.

Jane was silent for a moment as she slid into the passenger seat. “It is . . . but Tasha has good reason for feeling the way she does. Sarah . . .” She turned to the other woman and put a hand on her arm before she could start the car. “I want to apologize to you for the pain I caused you and your family by pretending to be Taylor. If I could go back and do it over . . .” She glanced down at her hands before forcing herself to meet Sarah’s gaze once more. “I can’t tell you why I did it, but I don’t suppose it really matters anyway. All I can say is that _this_ me never wanted to hurt you, and I am so very, very sorry. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me someday.”

“Oh.” Tears welled in Sarah’s eyes and she leaned across the console to hug a surprised Jane fiercely. “Thank you for saying that, Jane. And of course I forgive you.” If Kurt, who undoubtedly knew those details and had been hurt much worse by Jane’s betrayal, was able to do so, had moved past it and was planning a future with her, then who was she to quibble? “Everyone makes mistakes, but it’s clear to me that you’re trying to atone for yours. And I know my brother wouldn’t be with you if you weren’t a genuinely good person. So maybe we could just . . . start over from here?”

“I’d like that,” Jane agreed, even as a knot formed in her stomach at Sarah’s words. She knew she should correct her mistaken assumption, exercise the honesty a _truly_ good person would, but she couldn’t find the words to tell her that not only were she and Kurt _not_ in a relationship, but this baby was the result of a drunken one-night stand that would never be repeated. Though, come to think of it, wasn’t that Kurt’s place to do so? Sarah was _his_ sister, after all.

Sarah smiled as she pulled back. “Okay, then.” She held out a hand. “Hi. I’m Sarah Weller, and it’s nice to meet you, Jane. I’m very much looking forward to getting to know you.”

Jane felt a genuine smile curve her lips for the first time in far too long. “Nice to meet you, too, Sarah. I’m Jane Doe, and I can’t wait to get to know you either. And to pick your brain about all this pregnancy stuff,” she added, and both women laughed, the ice officially broken.

“Well, the first thing we’ll need to do is get you an appointment with an OB/GYN,” Sarah commented as she headed the car in the direction of the large grocery store near Kurt’s apartment. “Am I correct in assuming you don’t have one of those?”

“No,” Jane admitted. Unless she was injured in the field, her physical well-being was the least of the FBI’s concerns, and she had never thought to seek one out for herself. It was the least of her concerns as well.

“I think I still have my old obstetrician’s number in my phone. I could give her a call and set up an appointment for you,” Sarah offered. “She and her partner are both fantastic. They’ve delivered thousands of babies, and they have a knack for putting you at ease.”

“That would be great,” Jane said in genuine relief. She wouldn’t have a clue to go about finding one for herself. At least, not one that was guaranteed to be good.

“I’ll do that as soon as we get to the grocery store. I’m sure you’ll really like Dr. Grant, and—I’m sorry, Jane; I know you’re hungry, but would you mind if we stopped here for a few minutes?” Sarah asked as she spotted the mall coming up on the right.

“Not at all,” Jane responded politely, and in minutes she found herself being hustled into an upscale baby boutique and gazing around openmouthed as Sarah began sorting through stacks of baby clothes with single-minded purpose, pausing every so often to place an outfit over her arm.

“Sarah,” she pleaded softly after Kurt’s sister had added the sixth little . . . onesie, she noted they were called, from the sign on the shelf above them, to the growing stack.

Sarah stopped when she got a good look at Jane’s expression. “I suppose that’s enough for today,” she conceded as she headed toward the cash register, but turned back when she realized Jane wasn’t behind her.

She had been poised to follow Sarah when one of those onesies caught her eye. Jane’s breath caught in her throat as she picked up a little white outfit with a teddy bear on the front and the words _“My finger may be small, but I can still wrap my mommy around it.”_

It felt like he or she already had, Jane realized. Like this little life within her already had a stranglehold, not just on her finger, but on her heart, even though she had only known about it for a few hours, even though it would be months before those tiny fingers would be wrapped around hers.

“Jane? Do you want me to buy that for you?” Sarah asked quietly, and Jane was startled to realize that she had come back to her side. She was normally much more aware of her surroundings than that.

“No, thank you.” Jane shook her head, unaware there were tears glistening in her eyes as she turned toward the register, clutching the onesie to her chest. “I appreciate the offer, but I’d like . . . I need to get this one myself.”

Sarah nodded in perfect understanding, and both of them were quiet as they paid for their purchases and made their way back to the car. “Do you have any siblings, Jane?” she asked, curious about the extended family that would be in this baby’s life. Wondering if it would have other aunts—or uncles.

“No.” None that she knew of, anyway. Of course, thus far, Roman had been less than forthcoming with details about her past. He had divulged her real name, told her what had happened to her parents and where she had been taken afterward, which lined up with her memories, but she had sensed that he was holding something back. Something big. Jane looked out the window, unconsciously fingering the bag in her lap as they drove. “I don’t have any family. It’s just me.”

“It _was_ just you,” Sarah corrected, laying a gentle hand on Jane’s arm. “You’re not alone anymore. We’re family now.”

Oh, how she wished that were true. Kurt would correct that assumption soon enough, and Jane was surprised to discover how much that thought pained her. Sarah had been more than a godsend to her; she had been worth her weight in gold this morning, and seemed like someone Jane would have genuinely liked to have called a sister.

And for the next hour while they shopped, she proceeded to pretend that she was just that. Sarah took her up and down every aisle, explaining to her what foods would ease her morning sickness—and be best for the baby—and which items to avoid. She filled the cart as they went, as her treat, she said, to her future niece or nephew, ignoring all Jane’s protests that it was too much, but bypassing the aisle containing alcohol. That was absolutely taboo, she told her.

“That hardly seems fair,” Jane muttered. It was alcohol that had gotten her into this mess, after all.

Sarah glanced at her, but before she could ask what she meant, her phone rang. “Guess who?” she teased, holding out the screen to show Kurt’s face on the display before answering it. “Hey, big brother. Did you miss me, or were you calling to che—We’re at the grocery store near your apartment,” she responded, brow furrowing when he cut her off. “We were just about to check out and head back ther—I don’t know why she’s not answering her phone. I didn’t hear it ring.”

Jane’s breath caught in her throat as she realized that not only did Sarah think she was in a relationship with Kurt, she apparently assumed she was _living_ with him. Which, given their current situation was not an entirely illogical conclusion, she had to admit. She reached for her phone to see why it hadn’t rung, only to realize she’d left it in the car.

Sarah held out the phone after a moment. “It’s for you.” She walked farther down the aisle to give Jane some privacy to talk.

Jane put the phone up to her ear. “Hey, Kurt,” she greeted almost shyly. “Sorry about that. I left my phone in the car.”

“Jane.” Kurt exhaled in relief when he finally heard her voice. He'd gone almost out of his mind with worry when he couldn’t reach her. “We need to talk. I’m on my way to you now, and I have Sawyer with me. Can you meet me in the park by my apartment in half an hour?”

The same park he’d asked her to meet him in to talk after she’d . . . kissed him? “Sure,” Jane said, “but, uh, Kurt . . . I think your sister has the wrong idea about us. I, uh . . . I didn’t know how to tell her that . . . that we . . .”

“That’s one of the things we’ll talk about,” Kurt reassured when Jane stuttered to a halt. “Just . . . don’t worry about it right now. How are you doing? Everything going okay between the two of you? Have you eaten?”

Her heart ached at the tender concern in his voice. She’d been so sure she’d never hear it again. “I’m fine. I haven’t eaten anything yet, but I’m going to have some saltines and ginger ale once we check out. And Sarah’s been . . . she’s great, Kurt. You’re really lucky to have her. I couldn’t have gotten through this morning without her.”

He was going to have to treat his sister to a really nice dinner while she was here. “I’m glad to hear that, Jane. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed, suddenly unaccountably reluctant to hang up, and apparently he was as well. “Bye,” both of them finally blurted out at once, each of them chuckling nervously before saying it once more and ending the call.

She and Sarah were closer, so she arrived about ten minutes before him, Sarah dropping her off and going on to Kurt’s apartment to unload the groceries Jane hadn’t known how to tell her didn’t belong there. She guessed Kurt could bring them to her place after he explained. Or maybe he would tell Sarah himself when he dropped Sawyer off there. She took a seat on a bench overlooking the water and pulled the onesie she had bought out of its bag.

She felt more than heard him sit down, her gaze trained on the skyline in the distance, her fingers idly stroking the onesie on her lap. “Kurt.”

“Jane,” he returned softly, his own eyes trained on the little scrap of cloth in her lap, tangible proof that she had chosen to have his child. He relaxed, tension from a fear that he hadn’t even acknowledged flowing from his body as he finally admitted to himself just how much he had been hoping for that outcome. He gently took her hand in his, moving it to the side, and scooted closer so he could see what the little outfit said. He felt his eyes grow damp as he read the caption. “Are you hoping for a girl or a boy?”

Jane hesitated, then shrugged slightly, the question catching her off-guard, the gentleness in his voice bringing tears to her eyes. She had been expecting recriminations and remorse now that he’d had some time to think about their situation, had been prepared to handle that, but his kindness was disarming.

“Personally, I think I’d like a little girl,” Kurt continued when Jane still didn’t look at him. “One as brave and beautiful as her mama.”

Jane’s breath caught in her throat as her eyes flew to his, stunned at the tenderness she saw reflected there. He thought she was beautiful? “Kurt—”

He inched closer to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, tentatively pulling her into his arms when she didn’t resist, rubbing her back gently. “It’s going to be okay, Jane,” he murmured. “We’ll figure this out.”

“I’m sorry . . .” Jane drew in a shaky breath, relishing the solid comfort he offered, but forcing herself not to snuggle closer as she wanted to. She couldn’t afford to allow even one chink in the armor protecting her heart from him. “I’m sorry you had to find out that way. I wanted to tell you privately, so you wouldn’t feel obligated to . . . My mind’s made up, but you don’t have to be a part of this if you don’t want to. I know you weren’t planning to have kids—”

“Jane. Stop,” Kurt interrupted, pulling back so she could see his face. Could know that he was dead serious. “My mind’s made up too. I want this baby as much as you do. And you’d better believe I’ll be here for both of you every step of the way. Doctor’s appointments, midnight runs to the store when you’re craving something, Lamaze classes, the whole nine yards. I want to be a part of all of it.”

“Well, you’re about to get your chance,” she told him. “With the doctor’s appointment, that is. Sarah called her OB/GYN and they had a cancellation, so I’m going in first thing Monday morning.”

Kurt kissed her forehead as he drew her back into his arms. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

She had just upended his entire world, and he was being nice to her. No, that wasn't the right word. Nice didn’t even _begin_ to cover it. “I thought . . .” She shook her head slowly. “I thought once you had time to think about it, you’d try to convince me _not_ to have the baby.” Had thought she would be the very _last_ woman he’d want carrying his child, in fact.

“Pellington wanted me to,” Kurt admitted, and she stiffened in his arms. “And I have to admit, he made some valid points in favor of it. The timing of this pregnancy _couldn’t_ be worse, and he's right that it could be signing your death warrant. If things go sideways and you aren’t able to defend yourself . . . I don’t know how I’d ever forgive myself for that. As much as I want this . . . I’m scared to death that it will be my fault that I lose you, Jane. That I lose _both_ of you.”

They weren’t both his to lose. Only the baby was, but she understood that his overdeveloped sense of duty would make him feel responsible for her as well. “Kurt . . .” She gently took his hand in hers, rubbing her thumb across the back of it in an unconscious gesture of affection. She was glad he had brought this subject up. She needed to say these words now, while she had the chance, in case she never got another. He needed to hear them from her. She didn’t want him to go through life blaming himself for something he couldn’t have prevented, as he had with Taylor.

“Whatever happens . . . it _won’t_ be your fault. _I_ joined Shepherd’s organization to begin with. I’m fifty percent responsible for our predicament now. And I know the risks. I know the timing is terrible, and things between us aren’t . . .” she hesitated, “. . . exactly ideal for bringing a new life into the world.” Though so far, they seemed to be doing well at finding common ground. Perhaps they could rectify that before the baby was born, find a way to be friends again for their child’s sake. “I considered all of those things after I learned I was pregnant, and still I . . . I decided to go ahead with it, without even consulting you. So if something happens . . . it’s _not_ on you.”

Kurt just shook his head, not convinced, and Jane huffed in mock exasperation. “God, I hope this kid is not as stubborn as you.” She hoped it was _just_ like its dad.

“Me? What about you?” Kurt teased, and both of them laughed before he turned serious once more. “Jane . . . we need to talk about how to minimize those risks.”

Something in his voice told her that he had a plan. And that she wouldn’t like it. “Okay.”

“Nas suggested . . . she thinks it might be a good idea if we move in together. If we pretend to be a couple.”

“ _What?”_ Jane couldn’t believe her ears. Couldn’t believe that Nas, of all people, would suggest such a thing. But the fact that she had meant that Jane couldn’t dismiss the idea out of hand. She pulled free of his arms and scooted several inches away, needing that distance to clear her mind, to consider . . . “ _Why?”_

Kurt was relieved she hadn’t summarily rejected the idea. “This group’s already broken into your safe house once before; having both of us under one roof would be an added layer of protection against a threat like that.” And allow him to sleep at night. Especially once her pregnancy became too advanced for her to defend herself. Not that she should be taking any hits, even now. They were going to have to have a discussion about limiting her field work, and soon. “And I would be on hand if you need anything.”

Jane raised an eyebrow. Valid points though those were, she knew Nas too well to believe they were the primary motivation behind her proposal. The woman’s objectives were never that simple—or altruistic—and she knew how Jane felt about showing weakness in front of the team. Particularly _Kurt._ Though she supposed that was unavoidable to some degree now. But he still didn’t have to know . . . She forced that thought aside and raised an eyebrow. “Well, now I know why you think it’s a good idea.” She wondered what the odds were that she would find him camped out on her doorstep in his SUV if she rejected it. Probably pretty high, if his current behavior was any indication. “What was Nas’s real reason?”

“She thought . . . she thought it might get you back into Shepherd’s good graces,” Kurt admitted reluctantly. “That if you were able to pull off your original objective of getting close to me after it appeared to be a total failure, that it might advance you to the inner circle again that much quicker. It might even allow us to put all of this behind us before the baby’s born.”

Very possibly. Jane worried her lip as she considered the idea. Nas alone of all the team knew a little of her history; she wouldn’t have suggested this lightly. And from an objective standpoint, it made sense, but from an emotional one . . . This was one more minefield that she wouldn’t be able to cross unscathed.

Still, what choice did she have?

“And what do you think?” she asked, not willing to concede just yet. Hoping against hope that he would see the pitfalls as clearly as she did and be willing to take a stand with her against it. Or maybe she was the only one who would be vulnerable in this scenario. If they went forward with this, he certainly wouldn’t think she was _brave_ for long. Maybe not even beautiful.

“I think we should do it,” Kurt responded and saw Jane’s shoulders slump slightly. Clearly, that wasn’t the response she had been hoping for, but he understood the reaction. It had been equally difficult for him to accept the notion. His home was the last place that didn’t feel like a battleground these days, and now it was about to be invaded. “I know it won’t be easy, and we’ve still got a number of things to figure out . . .”

“. . . but it will be worth it for the sake of our child,” Jane finished slowly. And it would; of course it would. Any sacrifice that protected this precious life within her was worth that.

Even if it shattered her heart into a million pieces.

* * *

 


	4. Chapter 4

I do not own Blindspot or its characters.

* * *

Jane had grown increasingly quiet as they approached the NYO, and Kurt glanced over at her in concern as he pulled into his designated spot near the elevator of the parking garage. She was biting her nails, a sure sign that something was troubling her, and he gently took her hand in his to stop her. “It’s going to be okay, Jane.”

“Is it?” Jane asked quietly. “Six weeks ago we agreed what happened between us was a mistake, and that we would never mention it again. We’ve hardly spoken a word since then that at least one member of the team hasn’t heard, and now we’re supposed to convince them that we’ve been secretly dating for several months? They’re trained investigators, Kurt; how long do you think we can keep them from seeing through that? And your sister—”

“Would you prefer if she and Sawyer didn’t stay with us this weekend?” Kurt offered anxiously once again. “Trust me, she’ll understand if you would rather she got them a hotel room.” He thought he might prefer it as well. Their situation was complicated enough without adding his well-meaning but nosy sister to the mix. Without having to maintain this charade between them at home as well. Not to mention . . .

“Kurt, no.” Jane frowned at him. “We’re not doing that.” Even though it would require them to feign a level of affection they were very far from feeling. And to share a bed once more. Her cheeks burned, but she held his gaze steadily. “She and Sawyer are your family.” Sarah had even gone so far as to call Jane that, though it was entirely undeserved. Kurt didn’t know how lucky he was. “I just . . . I wish we didn’t have to _lie_ to her. Maybe . . . maybe we should wait until she goes back to Portland to move in together. Maybe . . .”

“Jane.” Kurt gently tightened his grip on her hand to stop her. “Come on, now. We talked about this.” It would be no less a lie then than it was now.

“I know.” Jane sighed. Oh, boy, did she know. She and Kurt had spent over an hour at the park hammering out the details of their arrangement, and they had both agreed that it would be too dangerous for Sarah to know the truth. Shepherd was undoubtedly going to be suspicious of their sudden closeness, and one innocent comment could be their undoing. And possibly Sarah’s and Sawyer’s, if the group thought she knew anything that could impact their mission. They didn’t exactly shy away from inflicting collateral damage.

Which was why Kurt had argued in favor of her moving in with him immediately. She had been of the opinion that they should wait a week or two, let everyone get used to the idea of them as a couple beforehand, but his persistence, coupled with her gratitude for his kindness and support today, had eventually worn her down, and they had packed up her meager belongings on the way back here.

She only hoped she didn’t live to regret it. That they _both_ didn’t live to regret it.

“Come on, Jane,” Kurt encouraged. “We don’t have a case today, so let’s go in and fill in the team like we discussed, and if nothing comes up, we can go home early. Okay?”

 _Home,_ Jane thought cynically even as she nodded. She doubted she’d ever truly had one of those, and Kurt’s apartment was unlikely to be her first. She sighed again as she opened her car door. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with.” They had decided to keep the team in the dark about the true circumstances of their child’s conception, but there would be no getting around the fact that this baby was unplanned. Unplanned, but not unloved. Neither of them wanted anything to detract from that, but they had more than their share of pitfalls in their path.

And one of those greeted them as soon as they stepped off the elevator.

“Does anyone know where Jane is?” Borden asked as they neared the bullpen. “She was supposed to be in my office fifteen minutes ago for a session.” Though if this session was as unproductive as their previous ones, he was wasting his time trying to track her down. She wasn’t exactly communicative these days.

His eyes narrowed as the agents glanced at one another, then Pellington and Nas, clearly knowing something he didn’t. Something big, judging by their expressions. “What?”

“She probably just forgot, Doc,” Reade volunteered. “She’s out with Weller right now. It’s been kind of a . . . a crazy morning around here.”

Crazy how? Borden wondered, but before he could ask, Jane and Weller approached, his arm wrapped snugly around her waist. His eyebrows rose at their proximity, at the blatant protectiveness Weller was displaying. If he didn’t know better, he would swear . . . “Director Weller, Jane. I take it you two have . . . buried the hatchet?” God, he hoped so. And that the others would soon follow suit. It would make his job—and his life—much easier.

“That’s not all he buried,” Tasha muttered just loud enough for everyone to hear.

Jane’s cheeks reddened at the obvious innuendo, and she instinctively started to pull away from Kurt, but he held her fast, his eyes blazing. He was just opening his mouth to offer a blistering reprimand when Pellington intervened. “Why don’t we take this into the conference room?” he suggested, mindful of the overtly curious stares being leveled their way.

Kurt’s jaw was clenched tightly as he followed his boss’s lead, and he kept his arm firmly around Jane’s waist as they walked, rubbing a hand up and down her arm soothingly in an attempt to ease her building tension. He was well aware that much of this was his fault, that he had allowed this situation, encouraged it even, with his thoughtless words. _I don’t like being in the same room as her._ As long as he lived, he didn’t think he’d ever forget the pain in her eyes when he turned around and saw her standing there.

And he had yet to apologize for that. He had yet to apologize for so many, many things. Not the least of which was failing to use protection when he slept with her. Though he couldn’t honestly say he was _sorry_ they were in this position now. He couldn’t regret the child they had created together.

“Okay,” Pellington said when they were all seated. “I’m sure you all have a great many questions—” as did he, “—and we have a great deal to discuss, but let’s do our best to keep it civilized, shall we?” He directed a pointed glance at Agent Zapata as he spoke, and then turned to Weller. “I think it might be best if you start by giving all of us a brief run-down of your relationship.” Just to make sure he or Nas didn’t say anything contradictory to whatever tale they had cooked up.

“Relationship?” Borden interrupted, shocked. “You and Jane are . . . seeing one another?” Zapata’s words had implied that, but he’d thought sure he had misunderstood. That one of them would surely have confided in him about something that important.

Kurt nodded, hearing the hurt in the man’s voice. “We’ve been seeing one another for about two-and-a-half months, but don’t feel bad, Doc. We just . . . we wanted to keep it to ourselves for a while, give ourselves time to figure things out before we went public.” He shrugged. “We probably wouldn’t have told anyone yet, but . . . well . . .” He reached for Jane’s hand and interlaced their fingers. “We found out this morning that we’re pregnant.”

She loved how he said _we_ instead of _she._ How he was making it clear from the start that he was going to be involved in every aspect of this process. Jane smiled over at him as she tightened her grip on his hand. Had it just been a few hours ago that she had offered to go it alone? She already couldn’t imagine doing this without him, a realization that should have terrified her far more than it did. She knew enough of Kurt Weller’s stubbornness to know that when he committed to something, he followed through.

She only wished he was committing to her as well as the baby.

Jane blinked. Where had _that_ thought come from? she wondered, her smile wavering for an instant as Borden congratulated them. “Thank you. It was quite a shock, but we’re thrilled.” And worried. And terrified. At least she was. Kurt seemed to have a pretty good handle on his emotions, for which she was thankful. He’d been a rock for her this morning.

“And I’m genuinely happy for you,” Borden assured them. “But I feel I would be remiss if I didn’t express my reservations about this. Two-and-a-half months is hardly long enough to build a solid footing for your own relationship, much less the complexities a child will add to it. Especially with all you’ve gone through in the past few months,” he added, looking at Jane. Weller, at least, had discussed his feelings with him; Jane had yet to begin to open up. Though maybe she had with Weller. He hoped she had taken his advice and turned to him for more than just . . . extracurricular activities.

“Maybe that would be a problem for most people, Doc, but not for us,” Kurt said confidently. “We may have only been seeing one another for a short time, but we’ve been through more in the year we’ve known one another than most couples face in a lifetime, and though we’ve had our ups and downs, we’ve weathered all that successfully. So I have no doubt we’ll figure this out as well.”

Kurt was certainly a better actor than she had ever given him credit for, Jane thought as he cast her a loving look, watching even Zapata’s skepticism begin to dissipate. Heck, she was halfway sold herself, and she _knew_ they weren’t a couple, and never would be.

“So how did you two get together, if you don’t mind my asking?” Borden wanted to know. “I have to admit, this has come as a bit of a shock.”

Jane and Kurt glanced at one another, and she took the lead as they had discussed. “I took your advice, actually. I decided to try to feel alone together, so I asked him out for drinks after work one night. I didn’t really think he would accept, but he surprised me, and we started talking, really talking, trying to see the other’s point of view.”

The lie tasted bitter on her tongue. She was fairly certain Kurt would _never_ see her point of view, though she had accepted his. Had accepted that he hadn’t wanted her to be tortured and had done everything in his power to get her back. But unlike her, no one had died because of his actions. Though it sometimes felt like she had. Like she had lost a piece of her heart she would never get back. Of course, ultimately, she supposed she was responsible for that as well.

She shrugged that thought off and soldiered on. “It helped us, just like you said it would, so we started meeting more regularly, and, well . . .” She trailed off, implying the rest was history. Hardly able to believe that everyone seemed to buy it.

Well, maybe not everyone. “So why didn’t you tell Weller you weren’t feeling well?” Tasha asked skeptically.

Translation: why didn’t Kurt notice you were puking your guts up in the morning? Jane thought cynically, tightening her grip on his hand as he stiffened. It was a reasonable question, though one they had overlooked in their efforts to prepare for the more complex interrogation that would be coming from Sandstorm. Fortunately, she had an answer at the ready. “As I said earlier, I started having symptoms about a week ago, but Kurt’s been so busy lately that I didn’t want to distract him with something as trivial as a little bout with the flu. I wanted to make the most of the few moments we’ve had together lately, not burden him down with something else to worry about.”

What was the real reason? Kurt wondered as he glanced over at her. He understood why she hadn’t come to him, of course, but why hadn’t she confided in _someone_? Nas, perhaps, or Dr. Borden. He didn’t like the idea that she had been hurting and hiding it, and he couldn’t help but wonder what else she might be keeping from them. From _him_. “You don’t ever have to worry about that, Jane,” he assured her. “You’re not a burden to me; you’re a priority, and I don’t consider anything you tell me _trivial._ Especially not about your health. Okay?”

Jane’s breath caught in her throat as she met his gaze. If she didn’t know he was playacting, she would have been completely taken in by the sincerity in his eyes. Though she supposed there was an element of truth to what he said. As long as she was carrying his child, she _would_ be a priority to him. “I’ll keep that in mind next time,” she blurted out before realizing the implication of those words. “I mean next time I’m sick, not . . . not . . .”

Kurt winked at her, finding her embarrassment just as adorable now as he had the morning she had woken up in his arms. In his bed. “Don’t worry, honey,” he said, seeing her eyes widen at the endearment as he leaned over to press a quick kiss to her forehead. “There’s no rush on the second one.”

Everyone laughed, and Nas turned her attention back to Borden once the amusement died down. “As you can see, Jane and Weller appear to be doing an admirable job of navigating the complexities of their relationship thus far,” she interposed smoothly. “But I’m sure they know you’re here for them, Doctor, and if you’re concerned, I’m sure the two of them would be more than happy to sit down with you.”

“You knew,” Tasha said in disbelief. “You knew that Jane and Weller were seeing one another, and you didn’t think to mention it to any of us?” So much for being more honest with one another.

“Let’s say I strongly suspected,” Nas corrected. “I knew how the two of them felt about one another before I ever got here, and I realized before that first day was over that those feelings hadn’t gone away.” Otherwise, one of them would have shot the other. They’d certainly had ample opportunity. “For the most part, they’ve maintained an admirable level of professionalism in the office, but I have caught Weller looking at Jane several times recently when he didn’t think anyone was watching, and it was clear to me that if they weren’t already romantically involved, they soon would be.”

What was Nas doing? Jane wondered as she felt Kurt tense slightly. He had assured her that Nas would back their story, but she hadn’t expected her to be quite so . . . blatant in doing so. She had all but declared that Kurt was in love with her, for god’s sake. That they were in love with one another. It was almost as if . . .

“As for why I didn’t mention it,” Nas continued before she could speculate on that any further, “I didn’t think it was my place to out them as long as their personal relationship didn’t affect their working one. And from what I’ve seen today,” she added with a pointed glance at Zapata, “they made a wise decision in keeping it quiet.”

Zapata had the good grace to look ashamed. But that didn’t stop her from offering her own observations. “Well . . . it’s affecting their working relationship now, isn’t it? It’s affecting all of us.”

“True,” Pellington agreed. “And I think it’s time we discussed that.” But only with the core members of the team. He glanced at the psychologist. “Dr. Borden, would you excuse us, please?”

“There’s something I want to say before we get started,” Kurt said once Borden had exited the room. Something he should have dealt with a long time ago. “I understand that Jane’s and my relationship presents . . . difficulties for us, but from this point forward, I expect you all to behave as professionals and accord her the dignity and respect you would any other employee in this office.” He directed a stern glare at Zapata, but his gaze took in all of them before coming back to rest on her. “Do I make myself clear?”

She nodded tightly, and the others followed suit. “Good,” Pellington said. “Now that we’re on the same page, let’s talk about how this is going to work. Have the two of you given any thought to that?”

They had, though neither of them was happy with the conclusion they had come to. “Yes,” Jane told Pellington. “For this to work, Sandstorm is going to have to believe that I’m calling the shots. That I’m simply using the pregnancy, our relationship, to accomplish their original goal of getting close to Kurt and manipulating him.”

“And are you?” Tasha asked quietly.

“Zapata!” Kurt growled, upset as much by this plan as her words, but taking all of his frustration out on her. He couldn’t deny the necessity of it, but he hated the fact that their unborn baby was about to become a pawn in Shepherd’s twisted game. Hated that his own relationship with Jane was about to be demeaned to such a vile level.

Not that they had a relationship, per se.

Jane waved him off. “No, it’s a fair question.” One she’d wondered herself. Wondered if, on some level she wasn’t even aware of yet, she was doing exactly what they wanted, or playing right into their hands at the very least. Kurt had told her to trust her instincts, but how could she when they’d been so flawed in the past? When _she_ had been so flawed in the past? “And no, Zapata, I’m not doing that. I would _never_ do that.” She had to believe that. Had to believe that in spite of everything she had put them through, all the pain and suffering she had caused, she could be a good person now. She could be a good mother to this baby.

“You meet with Roman again Monday night, correct?” Pellington questioned Jane, wanting to keep this conversation on track. Wanting to veer it away from the emotionally charged territory Agent Zapata kept bringing it back to. She could deal with her issues on her own time. “How will you explain it if Sandstorm questions your absence from Weller all the nights you’ve been meeting up with him?”

Jane shrugged. “I’ll tell them the truth: that Kurt only just asked me to move in with him after we found out I was pregnant, and even though we’ve gotten closer, we haven’t been seeing each other every night, so I’ve been able to get away thus far. Obviously, it will be much more difficult going forward.”

“You two are moving in together?” Patterson asked, beaming when Jane nodded. “That’s terrific!”

“Thanks, Patterson,” Kurt replied, finally giving into the urge he’d been fighting ever since he sat down to drape his arm around Jane and tug her over until her head rested on his shoulder. He knew so much physical contact wasn’t necessary—judging by Zapata’s disgruntled expression, even she was convinced at this point—but ever since he’d found out Jane was pregnant, his self-control had been virtually nonexistent.

Not that it had been much to write home about beforehand, he was forced to acknowledge. He had been reliving every moment of their night together with embarrassing regularity, and more than once the thought had crossed his mind that another such occurrence was inevitable and he might as well quit fighting it, might as well give in to his desires and ask her out for a drink once more. Clear the air between them once and for all, and see where it led them.

And now she was going to be living under his roof. In his bed, at least for the next few days. And if he was being honest, he already didn’t want her to leave it once his sister returned home. He told himself that was simply because he wanted her close in case she needed anything, in case an intruder managed to get in, but the truth was . . . he didn’t know.

He didn’t know how he felt about her any longer, couldn’t discern whether this connection he still felt between them was real or merely wishful thinking on his part, a desperate attempt to hold onto the first time—the _only_ time—he had felt truly happy in years. Was his continued attraction to her merely fueled by lust, by her being the one woman he couldn’t have, _shouldn’t_ have, or was it something else, something deeper and more meaningful, something worth fighting for? He honestly didn’t know.

But he needed to figure it out, and soon.

He forced his mind back to the matter at hand as Jane filled the team in on her intention to use the pregnancy to force a meeting with Shepherd, to refuse to cooperate any further with Sandstorm’s mission until the man met with her, biting back the urge to protest that it was too dangerous. They’d already had that discussion, and he’d lost. Logically, he knew that she didn’t have any choice at this point—that _they_ didn’t have any choice—but god, did he hate it. It flew in the face of his every instinct to protect those he loved. To protect his _family_.

The meeting broke up not long afterwards, Pellington having just a few more questions for them before leaving for the airport to return to D.C., and Reade and Zapata and Patterson following him out. Kurt turned to Jane as the door closed behind them. “I’ve got a little bit of paperwork I need to finish before the weekend, if that’s all right with you,” he told her. “I should be ready to head home in forty-five minutes or so.”

 _Home_ , Jane thought even as she nodded, and he kissed her on the cheek before exiting. There was that word again. And the woman to blame for its use was sitting directly across from her. “What the hell was that, Nas?” she demanded heatedly. “You know this is a farce, and yet you all but declared that the two of us were in love with one another, for god’s sake! What on earth possessed you to . . . to . . .”

Nas raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “I was merely helping to sell your story. And what I actually said was, I knew how the two of you felt about one another, not that you were _in love_ with one another. I can’t help it if people interpreted it that way.” If _Jane_ interpreted it that way. She refrained from suggesting that perhaps she should examine why she had done so.

“Right,” Jane said skeptically, unconvinced. Nas wasn’t the head of an off-book division of the NSA for no reason. She was a master at manipulating others. She had certainly manipulated Jane into trusting her, a decision she was coming to bitterly regret. “And forcing me to move in with Kurt? You know why that’s—” A bad idea, she started to say, but it went so far beyond that she couldn’t even find the words to express the wrongness of it.

“I’m not forcing you to do anything, Jane,” Nas pointed out reasonably. “You and Weller put yourselves in this position on your own. Look, I understand why it scares you—”

“Do you?” Jane asked quietly, resisting the urge to get up, to pace, to find some outlet, _any_ outlet, for the terror coursing through her veins. It was as if her calm had evaporated with Kurt’s departure, which only added to her frustration. “Do you really, Nas? I trusted you. I’ve confided in you things that no one else here knows about me—”

“And I’ve kept that confidence, Jane,” Nas said gently. “I haven’t shared those things with anyone. But maybe it’s time _you_ did. Weller does care for you, you know. He—”

“Is in enough danger because of me already,” Jane countered. Nor did she want to see the pity in his eyes when he learned the truth. That was the very _last_ thing she wanted him to feel for her. Though she wasn’t sure exactly what she did want him to feel. The one thing she _was_ sure of was that . . . “And I don’t want my child growing up an orphan like I did.” Assuming she lived long enough to have this baby, of course. She was well aware that her days were likely numbered. Zapata could make a killing if she started a betting pool on when she would meet her demise.

She looked at Nas. “So let’s talk about how to make sure that doesn’t happen.”


	5. Chapter 5

I do not own Blindspot or its characters.

* * *

Jane had been quiet on the drive home. Too quiet. Kurt glanced over at her as he parked the car. “What were you and Nas talking about?” The conversation he had interrupted when he had come to collect her had looked uncharacteristically tense. Despite a rocky start, those two had put aside their differences and were generally on the same page these days. Had even become friends of a sort. Of course, these circumstances were pretty far out of the norm, even for them. Still, he and Nas would be having words if she added to Jane’s stress levels right now.

“We were just having a difference of opinion over some of the things she said in the meeting,” Jane told him after a considered pause, feeling a pang in her heart at the deception even though it wasn’t a complete lie. But despite her determination to be more honest with him, there was simply no way she could come clean with him about the specifics of what they had been discussing. Doing so could potentially jeopardize the plan they had concocted to keep him safe.

She could see that Kurt didn’t entirely believe her, and she quickly changed the subject before he could pursue it further. “Thank you for what you said earlier. In the meeting,” she clarified when he glanced over at her with a frown and didn’t immediately respond. “You didn’t have to—”

“Yes,” Kurt interrupted flatly. “I did. And I owe you an apology as well. Jane . . .” He turned to her and took her hand, smiling ruefully as he met her eyes, “I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you since you came back to the team. The things I’ve said. We roped you into being an asset for us, and I know my attitude has made that infinitely more difficult. It was wrong of me, and I apologize. Forgive me?”

“Of course,” Jane said instantly. “I understand why you’ve been behaving that way, and I don’t blame you, Kurt. I inserted myself into your life; I gained your trust and became a friend; and then I lied to you and betrayed you all. I can’t say I would have handled it as well as you have if our positions had been reversed. And given the situation we’re in now, _I’m_ the one who should be apologizing to _you._ ”

Kurt frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I can . . . I can see how excited you are about the baby,” Jane told him. “And I love that you feel that way. I know what a great dad you’re going to make, but I just . . . I can’t help but feel that I’m just setting you up for more heartbreak. We both know the odds of me carrying our child to term aren’t great, and I’m terrified I’m going to be the cause of you losing someone else you love.”

Her words were like a blow to the gut. “Jane—”

“I know there’s nothing I can do about that at this point,” Jane continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “And we both know that life doesn’t come with any guarantees. Which is why I don’t want you to have to feel like you need to apologize to me for being _honest_ about your feelings. I appreciate your support today, but me being pregnant isn’t going to magically make things better between us, and I don’t expect it to. We may have to pretend with the rest of the world, but let’s not do it with one another, okay?”

Kurt sighed. “I don’t want to fight anymore, Jane.” He hadn’t wanted to since they’d slept together, even before that, if he were being honest, and he’d been relieved when she had ceased sniping at him at the office. And he was even more determined to stick to his guns now. All that stress wouldn’t be good for her. For the baby.

“I don’t either,” Jane admitted. “I know it’s too much to expect that we’ll ever be friends again like we were, but I’d like for us to be able to get along well enough to co-parent our child peaceably.”

Kurt stiffened. “You don’t think it’s possible for us to be friends again?”

“Possible? Sure,” Jane allowed. She wanted to find their way back to that more than anything. “But friendships require trust, and I can’t see you ever forgiving me enough to do that again.” Nor would it be easy for her to do so. Not when every time she closed her eyes, she was haunted by memories of what had taken place at that black site. A site he had willingly handed her over to be delivered to.

“I want to,” Kurt surprised her by admitting. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about your advice to me when Mayfair and I were having problems. How she was more than one mistake, and I should try to see her side of things. I’ve been trying to do that lately . . . with you.”

Jane sucked in a breath as his words caused a tiny flicker of hope that had been all but extinguished by his attitude towards her the past few months to spring back to life. Her eyes flew to his, and she was surprised to see tears shimmering there. “Kurt—”

“I know you didn’t mean for Mayfair to die, Jane,” he told her. “I understand that you were just trying to protect us. But understanding that doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

“No,” Jane agreed softly. “It doesn’t.” Images of Mayfair’s death made up a fair share of her nightmares—and all too often, she was the one holding the gun. The one who fired the fateful shot that had altered so many lives irrevocably. “Like you said my first day back, there’s no fixing this.” There was only learning to live with it.

She wondered how long it would take for her to do that.

“There’s no bringing Mayfair back,” Kurt corrected. “But things between us? I’m not ready to give up on that yet.”

“I don’t want to give up either,” Jane confessed, that tiny flicker of hope growing stronger. “But it isn’t just us we have to consider any longer. So how do we do this, Kurt? It . . . I don’t want us to have to walk on eggshells around one another for the next . . . for however long we’re forced to live together, but I don’t want to make the situation worse either.” She didn’t want their child to survive Sandstorm only to become a casualty of a war between them.

He honestly didn’t see how things could get much worse between them. And he was optimistic that they were headed in the opposite direction anyway. “I think we just keep doing what we’re doing right now. What we said we’d done at the meeting. We talk about what’s bothering us, and keep trying to see one another’s point of view. Things are bound to improve if we just start being honest with each other.” Jane nodded slowly, and his gaze sharpened. “You could start by telling me what you and Nas were really talking about earlier.”

She should have known that he wouldn’t let that go. And maybe he was right not to. “We were . . .” Jane hesitated, and he raised an eyebrow. “We were talking about how to make sure you don’t become a target of Sandstorm, all right?”

Kurt frowned. “It’s not your job to keep me safe, Jane. Your trying to keep me in the dark to protect me is what caused all the problems between us in the first place. I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can,” Jane said softly. “And I’m counting on you to protect our baby as well. Which is why it’s so important to me to keep you out of Sandstorm’s crosshairs. I grew up an orphan, Kurt. I remember enough of that life now to know . . .” She paused, shaking her head slightly as she glanced away to collect her thoughts. “I’m not keeping anything from you that would compromise anyone’s safety this time, I promise you that, but our child deserves to have at least one of us there to see him or her grow up.”

“Her,” Kurt interposed swiftly, feeling his frustration drain away as quickly as it had come as he understood her motives for keeping this from him. “And _she_ deserves to have both her parents in her life. I know we can’t pull you out—and believe me, I would if I could, Jane—but promise me . . . promise me that you’ll be careful. That you won’t take any unnecessary risks. I don’t want to do this without you.”

“I promise,” Jane assured him, warmed by his concern for her. “After all, someone has to make sure that _he_ doesn’t grow up to be as stubborn as his daddy.”

“Hey!” Kurt protested laughingly as she started to open her car door, hanging on to her hand to keep her from exiting as he grew serious again. “Jane . . . there’s one more thing we need to talk about before we head inside.”

That sounded ominous. Jane’s smile faded at his sober expression. “What’s that?”

Kurt hesitated. “For the most part, I’ve always kept my personal life separate from my job. The team hasn’t seen me interact with my girlfriends all that much, so they were easy to fool. My sister on the other hand . . .”

Jane nodded slowly as all her misgivings about deceiving Sarah rushed back in. She knew they should have waited until Monday for her to move in. “You’re saying we’re going to need to be more . . . touchy-feely.”

“We need to act like a couple who is . . . comfortable with one another,” Kurt rephrased as diplomatically as possible. “Sarah’s used to seeing me be . . . fairly affectionate with my girlfriends, so—”

“Holding hands alone isn’t going to be enough to convince her,” Jane supplied. “I get it.” Convincing Sarah of the validity of their relationship was one of their most important tasks to date. “So how do you want to handle this?”

Kurt swallowed uncomfortably. “I guess maybe it would be easiest to . . . to just pretend our relationship is real for this weekend. Sarah’s going to expect to see us hug and kiss and . . . and just be affectionate with one another in the way normal couples do.”

“That might be a challenge,” Jane commented. “I don’t really remember all that much about dating Oscar, but somehow I don’t think we were ever a _normal_ couple. I’m not sure . . .”

Kurt leaned over and kissed her. He had intended it to be just a quick brush of his lips against hers, practice for later when they had to do it in front of Sarah, but the moment his mouth touched hers, he was lost . . . in the softness of her lips against his own, in the taste of her, in the tiny whimper she gave off as his tongue traced her lips, and she instinctively parted her mouth so he could deepen the kiss.

Jane’s eyes were wide when he finally drew back, and it was a long moment before she could speak. “What . . . what was that for?”

“Sorry. I, uh . . .” Kurt swallowed hard. “I thought we should get that out of the way, so you wouldn’t look so surprised next time, but I, uh . . . I guess I got carried away.” He had a habit of doing that with her. One he needed to find a way to break. At least until he figured out what he wanted.

“Yeah,” Jane said sheepishly. “So did I.” She was relieved that she wasn’t the only one who had gotten caught up in the moment, the only one who apparently still felt the pull of whatever the hell this was between them. Maybe they could figure it out together—and help each other find a way to move on. “I guess it’s good that we got it out of the way.”

“Yeah,” Kurt agreed, releasing his grip on her hand as he opened his own door. “Let me grab those boxes, and we’ll head on in.”

“I’ll help you,” Jane offered as she moved around to the back of the SUV, but he quickly batted away her hands as he carefully stacked the boxes and lifted them. She huffed in frustration. “I’m pregnant, Kurt, not an invalid. The boxes I helped Patterson move to the file room yesterday weighed more than any of these.”

He made a mental note to have a serious chat with Patterson. With all his agents, actually. First thing Monday morning. After their doctor appointment, that was. Jane was too independent for her own good sometimes. “Well, you don’t need to be doing that any longer. I know you’re used to taking care of yourself, but like you said a few minutes ago, it’s not just yourself you have to consider any longer. You’ve got the baby to look after now, as well.”

“And what about you?” Jane demanded as she held the door open for him.

Kurt’s brow furrowed. “What about me?” He wasn’t the one carrying their child—though he would do everything in his power to protect her. To protect _them._

“You’re about to become a parent too,” Jane pointed out. “Which means you should be looking out for yourself as well. You’re the assistant director now, Kurt. I know you’re going to insist that I limit my fieldwork to missions directly connected to Sandstorm, but don’t you think you should be doing that as well? I don’t want to do this without you either.” She wouldn’t even know where to begin doing it without him. Kurt, at least, had _some_ experience with babies. She had none—that she could remember at least.

But she suspected maternal role models in her life had been few and far between, if not entirely nonexistent, and if Shepherd was any indication, maternal instincts weren’t one of the abilities Sandstorm prized in its operatives. She felt cold chills whenever that woman touched her, and Roman had made it clear every time they met that their mission came above everything—and _everyone—_ else.

Even her innocent unborn child.

“You’re right,” Kurt acknowledged after a long moment. “But I don’t know how to take a step back, and still make Sandstorm believe that everything is business as usual. I’ll think on it though, Jane, I promise. Now,” he added in a determinedly lighter tone, “I think that’s enough serious talk for one day. Let’s get you settled in, so we can enjoy this weekend, okay?”

Jane nodded hesitantly, but surprisingly enough, she did—though it flew by much too quickly. Sawyer met them at the door with the announcement that he was spending the night at a former classmate’s, and that they didn’t have to worry: he knew where babies came from now. Sarah laughed uproariously at the looks on both their faces the moment the door closed behind her son, and after a moment, they joined in as well.

“Do you want me to go help you bring the rest of Jane’s stuff in?” Sarah asked when they had finally gotten their amusement under control.

Kurt exchanged an uncertain glance with Jane before replying. “Uh, no. No, this is all of it.”

“Really?” Sarah asked without thinking. “I brought more than that with me for our weekend here.” She grimaced as she looked at Jane. “Sorry. That was rude of me.”

“No, it’s okay,” Jane assured her. “It’s true I don’t have much stuff. The safe house never felt much like home, and I spend most of my time at work, so I never tried to change that. I figured it would make it easier to pack up and move when the time came if I didn’t.”

“Well, it certainly did that,” Sarah agreed as she took one of the boxes from her brother and followed him down the hall to his bedroom, Jane trailing behind them. “You may as well enjoy it while it lasts. Once that little one arrives, moving will never be simple again.”

“And of course, it goes without saying that I want this place to feel like home to you,” Kurt told Jane. “So feel free to make any changes you want.”

“Thanks,” Jane said, smiling at him. She wouldn’t do that, but she appreciated the offer. She just couldn’t see the sense in disrupting his abode when she was only going to be here a few short months.

“Well, I’ll leave the two of you to get unpacked,” Sarah announced brightly. “I’m going to order a celebratory dinner. Do you like Italian, Jane?” That had been one of her go-to comfort foods when she was pregnant with Sawyer.

“Umm . . . I’m not sure.” She had only tried it a couple of times that she could remember, and neither entrée had particularly appealed to her, but she suspected she just hadn’t found the right one yet.

“Right.” Sarah glanced at Kurt. “I keep forgetting that you have amnesia. I tell you what. Why don’t I order several different dishes, and you can try all of them? And if you don’t find anything you like, we’ll order something else. Sound good?”

“That sounds perfect,” Kurt agreed before Jane could protest that it was too much. He set about clearing out closet and drawer space for her, and Jane made swift work of unpacking.

Sarah was seated in the living room when they emerged. “Dinner should be here in about forty-five minutes,” she announced. “Which will give the two of you just enough time to catch me up on everything I’ve missed since you’ve been keeping this relationship a secret.”

Kurt groaned good-naturedly. “I knew there’d be a catch,” he told Jane as he hefted her up in his arms, smiling at her startled yelp, and settled them gently on the couch with her cradled against his chest. She tucked her head in the crook of his neck, and he pressed a kiss to her hair before resting his chin atop her head. “It all began shortly after Jane returned to the team . . .”

She was certainly thankful they had rehearsed their story in such detail, Jane thought as she listened to Kurt spin the tale they had woven. She threw in a comment here and there as well, Sarah asking the occasional question, and by the time the food arrived, they were chatting like old friends.

In fact, Jane had grown so comfortable that she stole a particularly appetizing-looking meatball off Kurt’s plate when he wasn’t looking. “Hey!” Kurt protested teasingly when he noticed what she had done, and she grinned at him as she bit into it.

Sarah laughed as she shook her head at him. “Better get used to it, big brother. We pregnant ladies have a voracious appetite.” And not just for food either, she recalled. “Of course, my ex always said the pregnancy sex more than made up for it.”

Jane froze. “Pregnancy sex?” She didn’t dare look over at Kurt, but she could feel that he had gone just as still as she was.

“Yep,” Sarah confirmed, doing her best to keep a straight face as both Jane’s and Kurt’s turned red. “Pregnancy hormones can really kick your sex drive into high gear. Of course, that may not happen to you,” she added at Jane’s sharply indrawn breath. “But if it does, it’s a good thing that Kurt will be available full-time now to help you out with that.” She grinned at the two of them.

More like make the torture worse by being so close when she couldn’t avail herself of the solution. Jane focused on her food with renewed vigor, and Sarah wisely changed the subject at Kurt’s pointed look. “That reminds me,” she said, “I have a present for you.” She leaned down, picking up the first of the wrapped packages she had set beside her chair, and handed it to him. “I’ve been waiting years for the opportunity to give you this.”

Kurt shook his head as he ripped open the paper, already having a pretty good idea what it contained. His smile widened as he unfolded the onesie and read the words on the front. _My mommy’s taken, but my aunt is single and . . . hot!!!_ “Well played, sis.” He chuckled as he glanced over at Jane. “When Sawyer was born, I got him one that read, ‘ _If you think I’m a stud, you should see my uncle,’”_ he explained. “Sarah’s been threatening payback ever since.”

“And it was well worth the wait,” Sarah agreed sweetly. Especially since her brother had had the good sense to wait for a woman who clearly meant more than life itself to him. “Jane—” she reached down and picked up the second package, “—I have something for you as well. I could see how happy you’ve made Kurt from the moment he caught sight of you today, even though he was trying to hide it, and I’m so grateful to you for that. I’ve been worried about him being alone ever since I moved, and it is such a relief to know he has someone who loves him as much as he does them. So consider this a ‘welcome to the family’ gift, if you will.” She slid the present across the table to Jane and squeezed her hand before drawing back to let her open it.

 _If only_. . . Jane had tears in her eyes as she carefully unwrapped the box to reveal an expensive-looking digital camera. “Sarah—”

“I know you don’t have many memories from your old life, but I thought it was about time you started capturing new ones,” Sarah said quietly. “Trust me, you’ll thank me when your little one gets here. They grow up way too fast. And here—” she took the camera from Jane and made a few quick adjustments before raising it to her eye, “—you guys should definitely have a memento of the day you found out you were going to be parents.”

They obediently scooted together, and Kurt wrapped his arms around her, gazing down at her with such a tender expression that Jane could scarcely breathe. She’d seen flashes of the old light he’d had in his eyes for her in unguarded moments in the past few weeks, but this . . . this was something more, something deeper, and her hand trembled in his as he closed his fingers around hers.

Sarah quickly snapped several shots. “Perfect,” she announced happily after previewing them and slid the camera back across to Jane. Jane stifled a yawn as she looked through them, and she realized it was time to call it a night, even though it was still early. It had no doubt been a difficult day for Jane, emotionally if not physically, and she and Kurt undoubtedly still had a great deal to discuss. “Well, I’m a bit jet-lagged, so I think I’ll head to bed. You guys probably should as well. Sawyer has a big day planned for us tomorrow.”

Jane got to her feet as Sarah rose and hugged her fiercely. “Thank you for the camera . . . and everything you’ve done for me today. I really appreciate it.” She was very much looking forward to getting to know her better. Even if it was under false pretenses.

“What are sisters for?” Sarah asked with a smile as she hugged Kurt as well. “Just promise me you guys won’t elope. I think I’ve earned an invitation to the wedding.”

“Done,” Kurt agreed instantly, and Jane had to force herself not to gape at him. How was this pretense so easy for him? They weren’t even a couple, hadn’t even been on one date, and he had just insinuated they would be getting married someday. He hadn’t even taken a second to think about that request before he’d approved it.

“Great,” Sarah said as she turned toward the guest room. “Oh, Jane?” she added as she turned back. “Don’t forget to keep some crackers beside the bed to eat as soon as you wake up. And get up slowly. Hopefully, that will help with the nausea. Good night, you two.”

“Your sister’s quite a character,” Jane said to Kurt once she was out of earshot as she began filling a baggie with those crackers Sarah had recommended.

“She is that,” Kurt allowed. “Our mom left us when we were little, and our dad was . . . well, you know what he was, so the two of us basically raised one another. Of course, nowadays, that means we tend to interfere in one another’s personal lives. I know the two of you don’t know one another very well yet, and some of what she said tonight was . . . a bit inappropriate, but I hope you weren’t too offended.”

“Not at all,” Jane hastened to assure him. “I like Sarah. And given our current . . . situation and what we just told her, it’s not unreasonable that she assumed we would be doing more than just sleeping when we share a bed. At least it will only be for a couple of days.” And hopefully the hormones wouldn’t be a problem for her. It would be a long few months if they were.

They’d see about that. But now wasn’t the time to discuss it. Kurt followed Jane down the hall to their bedroom and got ready for bed while she changed in the bathroom. Her eyes widened when she came back in the room before she looked away, and he quickly realized what the problem was. “Sorry. I usually don’t sleep in a shirt, but I can put one on if you’d prefer.”

“No!” Jane blurted out. She had been startled at first, but she certainly didn’t mind the view. “No, it’s . . . You’re fine. I’ve just never seen you shirtless when I was sober, that’s all.” Her cheeks went pink at the admission. “Sorry. Now I’m the one being completely inappropriate.” And judging by the way her mouth had gone dry at the sight of him and then run away with her, those hormones might be quite a problem after all.

“It’s fine, Jane,” Kurt reassured her as he took a seat on his side of the bed. In truth, he’d been flattered by her appreciative perusal of him. Jane had been so closed off recently that he wasn’t even sure that she was still attracted to him, that their night together had been fueled by anything other than alcohol. It was nice to have concrete evidence to the contrary.

“Is it?” Jane asked quietly. “I just . . . I can’t help but feel like I’m cheating you here, Kurt. That I’m robbing you of the chance to find someone you could be truly happy experiencing this with while you’re tied up with me pretending to be happy.”

Kurt frowned. “I’m not _pretending_ to be anything, Jane. I _am_ happy.” He turned to her as she slid beneath the covers hesitantly, following suit himself and propping himself up on one elbow so he could frame her jaw with his free hand, smiling when she leaned into his touch. “I said earlier that I didn’t want to do this without you, but what I should have said was . . . I don’t want to do it with anyone _but_ you.” It was a subtle but important distinction. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Jane echoed softly, smiling back at him as warmth spread through her at his words. He had found the right words each and every time she had needed reassurance today—and not just said them, but _meant_ them. “And Kurt? I don’t want to this with anyone but you either.”

More than once today, it had occurred to her how lucky she was that this hadn’t happened to her when she made the mistake of sleeping with Oscar. That her child would have a father he or she could be proud of and who would be a positive influence on their life. She still couldn’t believe she had fallen for Oscar’s lies and manipulation, had ever believed that he had her or the team’s best interests at heart. Not when he had started out by threatening the person she cared most about in the world. She knew she had loved him once, but she doubted she would ever be able to find it in her heart to grieve his loss. To the contrary, she still wished she had shot him when she had the chance and spared the team—and herself—so much unnecessary pain. She wished she had spared _Mayfair._

“Good.” Kurt kissed her forehead before settling back against his pillow. “We’ll figure this out, Jane, I promise. We’ll just take it one day at a time until we do. Now let’s get some sleep.”

Jane obediently did as he suggested, certain that sleep would be a long time coming, as usual, but Kurt’s even breathing lulled her to sleep, and sunlight was streaming through the bedroom window before she awoke. She followed Sarah’s advice to the letter, and was relieved to find that although she was still nauseated, the crackers stayed down this morning.

The three of them left shortly after nine o’clock to meet up with Sawyer and his old classmates at the ice rink at Rockefeller Center, both Sarah and Kurt checking to make sure that she had a suitable supply of snacks to last the day before they headed out. Jane pretended to be annoyed at their fussing, but she was secretly touched.

The next two days were a blur of activity as the four of them crisscrossed the city, taking in the sights like first-time tourists, and by the time Kurt and Jane drove Sarah and Sawyer to the airport late Sunday afternoon, the two women had become fast friends. Jane had brought the camera Sarah had given her everywhere she went, and snapped dozens and dozens of photos, but the ones she would treasure most weren’t the photos that could be printed, but the snapshots she had stored away in her memory, the ones she was determined to guard against anyone taking away from her this time. Even herself.

She had begun this weekend alone, but for the first time in her life that she could remember, she ended it feeling like she was part of a family.


	6. Chapter 6

I do not own Blindspot or its characters.

* * *

Kurt held tightly to Jane’s hand as they left the airport terminal after watching Sarah’s plane take off. “Do you want to grab a bite to eat on the way back, or would you prefer a home-cooked meal?”

Jane hesitated as she considered the question. “How about we pick up some Chinese and take it home?” she suggested. She didn’t want Kurt to have to cook, but she wasn’t really in the mood to eat out either. And this way, she would have more time to get her stuff moved into the guest room.

“Chinese it is,” Kurt agreed easily, keeping an eye on a subdued Jane as he drove. She had been more upbeat and happy than he had ever seen her all weekend long, but the moment Sarah had disappeared from view, she had retreated back into her shell, a change he was not at all happy about. He was determined to draw her out again, but first he had to get her to open up to him about what the problem was. He sighed as he watched her push her food around her plate. “Do you want to tell me what’s bothering you, or should I guess?”

“Sorry,” Jane said guiltily as she looked up to meet Kurt’s concerned gaze. “I guess I haven’t been very good company tonight, have I?”

Kurt frowned at Jane’s choice of words. “You’re not _company,_ Jane; you’re family.” He’d thought this weekend had made that clear to her. They might have been feigning their relationship, but he hadn’t been faking his feelings on that score. “You don’t have to be upbeat for me if you’re not feeling it. We agreed not to pretend with one another, remember?”

 _What did he call claiming she was family?_ Jane wondered, but she kept that thought to herself. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Kurt when he had been unfailingly sweet to her, but Sarah was gone now. There was no need to continue the charade in the privacy of their own home, and as much as a part of her would like to, she knew doing so would only hurt more in the long run. She took a few more bites of food, knowing she needed to eat more for the baby, but it suddenly tasted like sawdust in her mouth.

Kurt’s eyes narrowed as he studied Jane. “Did Sarah say something that upset you?” They’d been having an intense conversation when he returned from the restroom with Sawyer right before they boarded the plane—and Jane had been distant ever since. “I know she made a few comments that were a bit . . . inappropriate this weekend. I'm sorry if . . .”

“No!” Jane blurted hastily, not wanting him to think Sarah was in any way responsible for her current mood. She was enough of a source of friction for him with the team now without creating tension between him and the sister he dearly loved. “Sarah didn’t upset me, Kurt. In fact, I wish she still lived in New York.” She smiled wistfully. “I already miss her.”

“The two of you really hit it off,” Kurt agreed. He’d been more than a bit jealous of that, in fact. He was the one who supposedly had the relationship with Jane, but Sarah was the one who actually did. Jane had done an admirable job of hiding her unease around him this weekend, but he had been acutely conscious of the reserve just beneath the surface whenever they were alone, a reserve that was completely absent in all her interactions with his sister. “But you’ve got her cell phone number now, so you can call her anytime. And I guarantee she’ll be back for visits every chance she gets.”

“It’s probably best I keep my distance,” Jane commented. “Once she finds out the truth, she won’t want anything to do with me anyway.” It would be less painful for everyone if she just didn’t allow herself to get close.

“We’re not going to tell her that, Jane,” Kurt assured her. Sarah didn’t need to know the circumstances of their child’s conception any more than the team did. Not that that would make her love it any less.

Jane’s look was frankly disbelieving. “Your sister may not be the most observant person on the planet, Kurt—” although not much escaped Sarah’s notice that she could see, “but somehow I don’t think she’ll miss the fact that the baby and I aren’t living with you when she comes to visit.” A strange look crossed Kurt’s face. “What?”

“Nothing. It’s just . . .” Kurt hesitated. “I guess I always assumed that when—if—I had a child, that their mother and I would be together, and I would be coming home to them every night.” And more and more, he was thinking he wanted that with Jane.

But he could hardly say that until he was sure.

He knew he'd made a mistake as soon as he spoke. Sadness instantly tinged the green eyes that had so recently been filled with light and laughter. He could have kicked himself for his thoughtless words.

“I’m sorry, Kurt,” Jane apologized again. He deserved all that, and more. Instead, he was tied up with her for the foreseeable future, and who knew how long it would be before he had the chance to find that special someone. She felt a pang in her heart at the thought. What she wouldn’t give to have that with him. To be that person _for_ him. She set her plate down, her appetite now completely gone. “I should . . . I think I’ll go start moving my things to the guest room.”

“What?” Kurt was stunned at the sudden turn the conversation had taken. He grabbed her hand as she started to rise. “No! Jane . . . I don’t want you to.” It had only been a couple of days, but he had already grown accustomed to hearing her even breathing next to him as he fell asleep, waking with her curled around him. He loved watching the sleepy look in her eyes when they first blinked open in the morning as it gradually faded to wakefulness. “Stay with me.”

“Kurt . . .” Jane’s heart broke a little at the entreaty in his eyes, but she couldn’t give in, not this time. If she did, it would likely shatter completely. “I can’t.”

“Please, Jane,” Kurt pleaded. “What if . . . what if you need something in the night?” She started to shake her head, and he rushed on. “Or if Sarah pops in for another visit unexpectedly?” He could almost guarantee his sister was going to do that more often now. “What is she going to think if she shows up to find you living in the guest room? Besides, we . . . we should get started turning it into a nursery.”

“I think we’ve got plenty of time to do that,” Jane countered. She paused for a moment, considering his other objections. “Very well. I’ll leave my stuff in your room. But,” she added as he started to relax, “I’m still going to sleep in the guest room. If I need anything, I know you’re right down the hall.”

“Why?” Kurt asked her a little desperately. “If I’ve done anything to make you uncomfortable . . .”

“Not at all,” Jane assured him instantly. “You’ve been a perfect gentleman, Kurt.” She couldn’t have _asked_ for him to be any more wonderful than he had been. “I’m not doing this because you’ve done anything wrong. It’s just . . . This situation could blur a lot of boundaries.” At least for her. Boundaries she couldn’t afford to lose sight of. “I think I need some space.” She squeezed his hand gently before pulling hers free and getting to her feet. “I’m going to get ready for bed and turn in early tonight. Good night.”

She didn’t wait for a response, but turned and headed down the hall to the bedroom she had recently shared with him, leaving a stunned Kurt in her wake.

Sleep was a long time coming that night for both of them. Kurt felt like he had just dozed off when a panicked cry from Jane’s room caused him to sit bolt upright in bed. He was already moving in that direction when she cried out again, and he felt his heart stop in his chest as he burst into her room, scanning the darkened interior for a threat that apparently only existed in Jane’s mind.

She was writhing on the bed, the blanket thrown most of the way off, the sheets twisted around her as she cried out again. Kurt felt his heart break at the sight as he raced to her side and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. She stopped moving immediately, but her almost frozen stillness clued him in that she was still in the throes of her nightmare. “Jane, it’s me,” he said gently, stroking several damp tendrils of hair back from her face. “It’s Kurt. I’m here. You’re safe.”

He kept murmuring soothingly to her until she opened her eyes, drawing in a shuddering breath as she focused on him, and he could take her in his arms as he’d wanted to from the moment he entered the room. She clung to him like a lifeline in a stormy sea, and he scooped her up in his arms, cradling her against his chest as he walked back to his room and slid them beneath the covers of his own bed, never relinquishing his tight hold on her. He knew he was ignoring her express wishes, but he would be damned if he would leave her alone right now.

Not that she would have let him. Jane had pressed herself against him until their bodies were aligned from chest to toe, her head buried in the hollow of his neck. He felt the tension gradually drain from her body, and she tried to pull away as sanity returned, but he held her fast. “S-sorry,” she apologized. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You have _nothing_ to be sorry for, Jane,” Kurt told her sternly as he rolled onto his back, pulling her with him so that she was sprawled on his chest looking down at him. He reached a hand up to cup her cheek. “Do you have these nightmares often?”

She was silent for so long he didn’t think she was going to answer. “Not as often as I did when I . . . first came back.” Nor were they as severe. “But it’s rare I go two nights in a row without having at least one.”

“You just went two nights in a row without having one,” Kurt pointed out. “What do you think triggered this one tonight? The new surroundings, or . . .”

Jane’s hand fisted in the sheets as she considered how to respond. She knew the answer to that, of course, but admitting it . . . “It doesn’t seem to matter how familiar I am with a place, I still have them. The only times I’ve slept really soundly since my return have been . . .” She met his eyes, saw the dawning awareness there. “I feel . . . safe with you,” she confessed. “I thought being in the same apartment would be enough, but . . .”

“Then move back in here with me,” Kurt urged. _“Please,_ Jane. I want you here.” Now more than ever, since he had witnessed firsthand what she had been enduring alone. What he’d had a hand in causing. “You need your rest, sweetheart.”

Jane stilled at the endearment, but she didn’t respond. Judging from the startled look on Kurt’s face, it had been unintentional. “I know,” she agreed. “And I know I should . . . but it won’t really solve anything, at least not in the long run. This relationship comes with an expiration date, even if we don’t know when it is yet. Depending on you now will just make things harder for me in the long run.” It would make it impossible for her to separate reality from fantasy.

“What if it didn’t?” Kurt asked slowly as his wants and her needs aligned, and he realized with stunning clarity just what it was that his heart had been trying to tell him all along. “What if we gave this relationship a try for real?”

Jane stared down at him for a long moment, her heart leaping in her chest for a moment before reality came crashing back in. “You can’t decide to start a relationship with me simply because I’m pregnant with your child and having nightmares, Kurt. It takes more than that.” Eventually, the baby would be born and the nightmares would hopefully fade, and what then? “We wouldn’t even be having this conversation if not for that.”

“Not right this second,” Kurt allowed as his hands began roaming up and down her spine, feeling her body shiver involuntarily and press closer to his in response. “Finding out you were pregnant definitely accelerated the timeline, but even if I am a little slow on the uptake, I’d like to think I would have gotten there eventually.”

Jane struggled to think with his hands on her. “This isn’t a decision you make on a whim, Kurt. If we try this, and it doesn’t work . . .”

“It’s not a whim, Jane,” Kurt assured her, meeting her gaze steadily, letting her see how deadly serious he was. “I’m not a kid anymore, and I wouldn’t propose this, wouldn’t risk the fallout for our child if I didn’t think this could work. I told you a long time ago that I was too choosy to get married, but with you . . . I can see that in the future. I’m ready to settle down, and I want to do it with you. And it’s not because of the baby or the nightmares. I wanted you before you were pregnant, or we wouldn’t be in this situation, and I’ve wanted you every damn day since.” He smiled as color flooded her cheeks at his blunt admission. “We can take things as slow as you want, but please . . . give us a chance, Jane. Say yes.”

Jane shook her head. “Physical attraction . . .”

“Trust me,” Kurt interrupted, “I feel plenty of that, but it’s not just the physical I’m attracted to. It’s _all_ of you. It’s your strength and bravery and selflessness, and how compassionate you are to others even when you’re going through hell yourself. It’s the way you can see when I’m struggling and never fail to offer sound advice or challenge me when I’m in the wrong. I can’t explain it, but I’ve felt . . . connected to you from the moment I laid eyes on you.” He’d felt more electricity from her simple touches at that first meeting than he had with women he’d been in bed with. He wanted her to be the last and only woman he shared a bed with from now on. He kissed her forehead. “Say yes, Jane.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Jane said in frustration. “But we’re finally getting our friendship back, and you’re one of the few people that knows the truth about my past that I can talk to. If this doesn’t work out, you still have family and friends that care about you. I’ll be all alone again. Not to mention, getting involved with me won’t be a good long-term career move.”

“You’ll never be alone again, Jane,” Kurt promised her fervently. “No matter what happens, I swear I’ll always be here for you. And you’re far more important to me than any job. Besides—” he grinned up at her, “as you’ve pointed out many times, I’m pretty stubborn and incredibly set in my ways. It’s far more likely that you’ll find some guy you like better than me, and break _my_ heart. But it’s a risk I’m willing to take. Say yes, Jane.”

Jane stared down at Kurt in disbelief as he summarily disposed of all her reasons why this was a bad idea, and she realized she didn’t have any more objections to advance. Nor did she want to try to come up with any. She’d never thought she’d have a chance with him again, and she wanted it with an intensity that scared her. She took a deep breath. “Yes. But,” she added when his grin widened triumphantly, “we’re definitely going to be taking this slow.” At least as long as she could hold out against these pesky pregnancy hormones. Though she suspected fighting a legion of well-armed soldiers might be easier.

“I think that’s for the best,” Kurt agreed as he shifted her off his chest and tucked her up against his side, wanting her to remain as close as possible even while they rested. “Now let’s try to get some sleep. Tomorrow will be here before we know it, and we’ve got our first doctor’s appointment in the morning.”

“Mmm,” Jane agreed, her eyes already closing as she pillowed her head against his shoulder, lulled into a deep, dreamless sleep by the steady beat of his heart, and she didn’t open them again until sunlight was streaming through the windows. Kurt was idly running his fingers through her hair, and she fought the urge to drift off again. “I don’t suppose we could just call in sick, and go back to sleep.” She was _not_ looking forward to facing Zapata today.

“Sorry,” Kurt told her, genuinely apologetic. “We have to get to the doctor’s, and you’re meeting with Roman tonight, so we need to have a briefing on that before you leave.” God, what he wouldn’t give to be able to get her out of that. Or at least to tail her discreetly. He wasn’t going to be able to draw an easy breath until she returned. “We’ve still got plenty of time before we have to leave, though, so take your time getting up. I’ll go get a shower and then whip us up some breakfast while you get ready.”

“Sounds good,” Jane agreed as she carefully shifted to a sitting position so he could get up, reaching for the now ever-present stash of crackers on the nightstand. At least Sarah’s tips had made the nausea manageable, and by the time she got dressed, she had even worked up enough of an appetite to down two slices of dry toast, Kurt confining himself to that as well, albeit with butter and jam, to avoid any smells that might make her queasy. Despite her protests for him to eat something more substantial, she appreciated the consideration.

They arrived at the doctor’s office a few minutes before eight o’clock and were handed the requisite paperwork to fill out. Jane looked at Kurt in dismay as she read through the questions. She had no idea of her medical history or her family history, not even how old she was.

“It’s okay, Jane,” Kurt reassured her. “Lots of people are adopted and don’t know their family history. Just fill out what you can and leave the rest blank. They’ll run tests for anything they’re concerned about.”

At least those people knew their age, Jane thought cynically, but she did as he suggested without comment. Hopefully, she could at least get Roman to tell her how old she was tonight. It wasn’t as if _that_ was a state secret, after all.

The two of them worked together to fill out the questionnaire, though the vast majority of it was still blank when the nurse called them back. “Jane Doe,” Nurse Delano commented as she asked Jane to step on the scale. “That’s an . . . unusual name.”

“She has amnesia,” Kurt bit out, draping a protective arm around Jane as she stepped off the scale and leveling a piercing glare at the woman’s perceived insensitivity.

Nurse Delano remained unfazed by his icy stare. She’d seen far too much in her thirty-five year career to be intimidated by any expectant father, even one who was an Assistant Director of the FBI. “I see.” She jotted a note on Jane’s chart. “Was it caused by trauma, or . . .? It’s medically relevant,” she said patiently when the two of them exchanged an indecipherable look.

“Jane was given a high dose of an experimental drug designed to erase memories,” Kurt said grudgingly as the nurse ushered them into an exam room. “You may have seen it on the news when we found her in Times Square last September. She had bruising indicative of being in restraints, but no other obvious signs of trauma.”

“Is that . . . will that be a problem?” Jane asked anxiously. Despite Kurt’s earlier reassurances, she couldn’t help but worry that the black whole of her past would affect their baby somehow. Especially given what she _did_ know.

“Dr. Grant will discuss that with you at length, but I wouldn’t think so,” Nurse Delano assured her. “We may run a few additional tests since you can’t remember your medical history, but I wouldn’t borrow trouble.” She made a few more notes and then asked Jane to take a seat on the table, quickly taking her temperature and blood pressure and checking her heart rate. She sent Jane out of the room to provide a urine sample and drew several vials of blood when she returned before pulling a gown from a nearby cupboard and handing it to her. “All right. Go ahead and take all your clothes off and change into this. Dr. Grant will be with you shortly.”

Kurt swallowed hard as Jane bent to unlace her shoes. He hadn’t considered until this moment what this doctor visit was going to entail. “Do you want me to stay or . . .” He hesitated. “I can step out during the exam if it would make you more comfortable.”

“No way, mister,” Jane shot back as she shimmied out of her jeans, noting with amusement that Kurt’s eyes grew huge before he looked away. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen it all before—long before they slept together, in fact. “You were there for the fun part; you get to do some serious handholding now.”

“I’m happy to do it,” Kurt assured her, keeping his gaze politely averted as she shed her remaining clothes and donned the gown the nurse had provided, pulling her to him and kissing her gently once she was seated on the table once more. Her green eyes were wide and soft when he drew back, and he leaned in for another kiss just as a knock sounded on the door.

“All right, you two, break it up,” Dr. Grant said cheerfully as she entered the room, her hazel eyes lighting up with amusement as Kurt jumped back and spun to face her, never relinquishing his hold on Jane’s hand. “I’m Dr. Grant, and from what I understand, we’ll be seeing a lot of each other for the next few months.”

She shook both their hands as they introduced themselves in turn, then wheeled her stool over next to the table and took a seat. “Nurse Delano filled me in on your . . . unusual circumstances. Why don’t I go ahead and examine you,and then we’ll discuss how to proceed.”

Jane nodded and obediently lay back, placing her feet in the stirrups and keeping her eyes locked on Kurt’s as Dr. Grant poked and prodded the most intimate parts of her. The FBI’s initial assessment of her had nothing on this examination. She was relieved when the doctor finally allowed her to sit up and swing her legs over the side of the table.

“Okay,” Dr. Grant said as she removed her gloves and tossed them in the trashcan before noting her findings on Jane’s chart. “First things first. Based on the information, you provided, I estimate your due date to be August 15. Congratulations.”

She waited while Jane and Kurt hugged each other, wordlessly communicating their joy, before continuing. “The amnesia does present us with some . . . unique challenges.” She was more than a little surprised that an assistant director of the FBI had gotten romantically involved with a victim, particularly one with no memories. What if there was a husband waiting in the wings somewhere? “I recall seeing your story when it first broke. Have you been able to recover any memories at all?

“I’m not asking you to divulge specifics relevant to your case,” Dr. Grant added as Jane and Kurt exchanged cautious glances. “But it would be helpful to know your age, and if you’ve had any previous pregnancies. I don’t see any signs that you’ve ever given birth, but if you’re over thirty-five, or you’ve had several miscarriages in the past, it could put you in the higher risk category.”

Somehow she didn’t think procreating had been high on Sandstorm’s list of life goals for her, Jane thought as she absorbed that information. More than that, she just didn’t _feel_ like she’d ever carried a little one inside her before. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. She _wanted_ this little one to be the only one she’d ever carried. She wanted this experience to be unique to her and Kurt. “I haven’t recovered any memories that would tell me either of those things,” she said softly. She would ask Shepherd and Roman about it tonight, but even if they had that information and were willing to share it with her, she couldn’t divulge it to Dr. Grant. But at least it would put her own mind at ease.

“Okay.” Dr. Grant smiled reassuringly. “I wouldn’t worry too much about that at this point. You appear to be one of the healthiest patients I’ve ever had. Since we don’t know your family or medical history, we’ll screen for a wider range of diseases than we would if we had that information, but again, that’s just routine. Everything appears to be progressing just as it should.”

She took a deep breath and launched into her standard litany of do’s and don’ts—diet, exercise, the amount of weight Jane needed to gain before her next appointment. “I’ll call you if those tests show up anything that warrants further testing, but barring anything unforeseen, I’d like to see you again in a month, so make an appointment on your way out. Any questions?”

“I have one,” Kurt spoke up.

Dr. Grant smiled. She fielded this question nearly every time an expectant father came into the office. “Yes, daddy, it’s perfectly safe for the two of you to continue to have sex. I’ll let you know if that changes, but I don’t anticipate any problems in that regard.”

Both Jane and Dr. Grant chuckled as Kurt’s face turned an interesting shade of red. “Actually, I was wondering if there were any symptoms we should be watching for that would indicate a problem with the baby?”

“Good question,” Dr. Grant approved and rattled off a list of common things that could be of concern. “At this point, it’s mostly just common-sense stuff, and again, I’m not seeing anything that concerns me.” She wrote Jane a prescription for prenatal vitamins and tore it off her pad, handing it to her as she rose. “Oh, one more thing. I almost forgot. Have you had a flu shot?”

Jane nodded. “A couple months ago. Why? Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all,” Dr. Grant assured her. “I always recommend that my patients have them this time of year. The flu can cause some serious problems for both of you, so if you hadn’t gotten the vaccine, I’d be strongly suggesting that you did so at once.” She smiled as she turned toward the door. “It was very nice to meet you both, and again, congratulations.”

Jane blew out a breath as the door closed behind her. “And here I was thinking that Sandstorm was the greatest danger to our baby, and now it turns out that I could be just as big a threat.” She’d worried about losing her unborn child due to their actions, but it had never occurred to her that her own body could betray her.

“You’re the greatest asset our child has,” Kurt countered as he pulled Jane off the exam table and into his arms, kissing her until the shadows in her green eyes were replaced by unfettered happiness. Dr. Grant hadn’t been overly worried, and he wasn’t either. They had enough trouble in their lives without borrowing more.

“Now come on,” he added as her stomach rumbled, clearly not satisfied by the meager toast she had consumed. “Get dressed and we’ll grab some real breakfast on the way to the office. My treat.”

Jane smiled as she did as he asked, noting with amusement that he sneaked several peeks this time, his warm gaze telling her how beautiful and desirable he found her when their eyes met. _Taking it slow_ suddenly seemed much less appealing, albeit even more necessary. They might be looking to the future but that didn’t mean they didn’t need to discuss the past before moving ahead. Clearing the air between them and establishing solid communication skills were more critical now than ever.

Life didn’t often grant second chances, and she was determined not to let this one slip through their fingers.


	7. Chapter 7

Kurt kept an eye on the clock all day, willing time to stand still, but eventually the time drew near for Jane to leave to meet up with Sandstorm. He took a deep breath as the team filed out of the conference room after the briefing, leaving the two of them alone together. “So . . .” he said as their eyes met.

“It’s going to be okay, Kurt,” Jane reassured as she stood and walked toward him, wrapping her arms around him when he followed suit, both of them needing the physical comfort of touch before they were forced to part. She ran her hands up and down his back, hoping to ease the tension she felt flowing through him as he tightened his grip on her. “I’ll be fine. _We’ll_ be fine.”

“You can’t know that, Jane,” Kurt bit out, resting his cheek on her hair and inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo. He wanted to draw this moment out as long as possible, memorize everything about her, before he had to let her go. “We don’t _know_ that Sandstorm will be pleased about this development. What if their plans have changed? What if they don’t want you to be with me any longer? To have this baby? What if . . .?”

“Kurt,” Jane said softly. She hated that she had to leave, knowing that he was going to be torturing himself the entire time. That he wouldn’t draw an easy breath until she returned. Unfortunately, there was nothing she could say to reassure him. Those were all valid concerns, though she honestly didn’t think any of them were likely.

“I wish . . .” Kurt drew in a shuddering breath. “I wish we could just walk out of here together, right this minute, and start over somewhere far from here, somewhere where nobody knew us and we didn’t have to put our lives on the line every day.” Somewhere where there were no impending terror attacks or murky pasts, nothing but honest, hardworking people and the opportunity to build an uncomplicated life together.

“Maybe one day soon we’ll be able to do that if you want to,” Jane told him. It didn’t sound bad, to be honest. Patterson had warmed to her somewhat since her return, but she doubted she would ever feel like a valued member of this team again. That they would ever stop regarding her without a niggling kernel of suspicion that would always make her feel like an outsider. “Maybe we could move closer to Sarah, give this kid an aunt. But for now . . .”

She smiled at him sadly, both of them knowing what was coming. “We have to see this through, Kurt. We’d never be able to live with ourselves if lives were lost because we shirked our duty. It would tear us apart more surely than Sandstorm ever could.”

“I know,” Kurt admitted, pressing a kiss to her hair. He needed to let her go, but he couldn’t bear to quite yet. “Take care of my girl out there tonight.” He gently pressed a hand to her stomach. “Take care of _both_ my girls.” He would never know where he found the strength to drop his arms and step back, smiling at her as he did so, but Jane’s expression told him he wasn’t fooling anyone.

“I’ll be okay, Kurt,” Jane reassured him once again. “Sandstorm needs me. They need _us.”_ If they could enact this plan without the two of them, they surely would have done so in the first place. She turned to go and then realized there was one thing she needed to do first. She walked back over to him and leaned up on her tiptoes, pressing her lips to his, uncaring of who might see. They both needed this. They had both _earned_ this.

She kept the kiss light, soft, reminiscent of their first two, a promise of things to come, and drew back much sooner than she would have liked, much sooner than _either_ of them wanted, a smile on her face as she turned and left the room without looking back.

It faded the moment the doors slid shut on the elevator, replaced by a steely-eyed determination to get the job done and get back to him. She wished she hadn’t been quite so hasty in deciding to take things slow between them now. What good would her caution have done her if, god forbid, she didn’t make it back? She would die never getting to experience the full reality of a relationship with him, at least not while sober. She was just kidding herself if she didn’t think her heart was already fully invested. And it wasn’t as if she could get any _more_ pregnant, after all.

Roman was waiting for her at the agreed-upon spot. “Remi!” he greeted as soon as he saw her, rushing to embrace her, and Jane awkwardly returned his hug. He was always so happy to see her that she couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty that she was going to betray him. He was one of the few people from her past that she remembered, after all.

“How are you doing?” Roman asked when he finally let her go. “Any progress regaining the FBI’s trust?” To say that his organization had been rocked by the news of Bill Weller’s deathbed confession and Kurt’s subsequent discovery of Taylor’s body had been a major understatement. It was an obstacle none of them could have foreseen when they’d had Oscar order Jane to conjure up childhood memories of the two of them.

Jane shrugged, not wanting to play her trump card too soon, appear too eager. “Not much. Patterson’s warmed up a little, and Reade is polite but reserved. Zapata still hates me.” She paused. “Things between Weller and me have improved though. I—”

“Good,” Roman cut in. “Because we need you to do something for us. Call it one last loyalty test, if you will. Once you do this, you’re in, no more questions asked. We need you to—”

“No,” Jane interrupted. “Whatever it is, I’m not doing it. I’ve jumped through all the hoops I’m going to for you people. You either take me to meet Shepherd, _right now,_ or I’m out.”

Roman stared at her for a long moment as her threat hung in the air between them. “And why would I do that?”

“Because . . .” Jane allowed a small smile to creep onto her face. “It’s taken some doing, but I wasn’t lying when I said I’d managed to get closer to Weller again. In fact . . .” She unconsciously brought a hand up to cover her stomach protectively, and Roman’s eyes tracked the movement. “I’m pregnant with his child.”

“That goddamned son of a bitch!” Roman exploded, and Jane’s eyes widened as he pushed off the wall he had been leaning against and began to pace. “I’ll kill him! Of all the stupid, irresponsible—” He broke off as he caught sight of Remi’s face, choking back his rage with an effort as concern for her won out. “How are you doing? Is everything . . . okay?”

“Yeah,” Jane assured him. “I was pretty sick last week, but Kurt’s sister gave me some tips that are really helping with the nausea. I saw the doctor this morning, and she said everything seemed to be progressing normally. She did say it would be helpful to know my age and if I’d ever been pregnant before. Do you know if . . .?”

Roman hesitated, but he couldn’t see any harm in answering. “You were born in 1982, so you’re 34 years old. You’ve never been pregnant that I know of, and I think you would have told me. We’ve been . . . close since we were kids.” Closer than she knew, and oh, how he longed to tell her. Shepherd had forbidden it, but he had come within a hairsbreadth of breaking that order on more than one occasion. He wished now he had. “How far along are you? I assume since the Wellers know and you’ve seen a doctor, you’re . . . planning to keep the baby.”

“Yes,” Jane said emphatically. “I am. I get that the circumstances are not ideal, but I want a little someone of my own to call family. Besides, I assumed Shepherd would want me to.”

Shepherd’s feelings on the subject would undoubtedly defy description. And Remi _had_ a family. Roman ran a frustrated hand through his hair. _If only he had been allowed to tell her that._ “Is he . . . good to you? Weller, I mean. I know he seemed like a good guy when we were researching him, and we ordered you to get close to him, but if he’s not—”

“He is,” Jane broke in quickly. “He’s been . . . very kind. I know how important this mission is, but I wouldn’t have gotten involved with him if he wasn’t . . .” Her cheeks burned, and she fell silent.

If Remi were developing feelings for Weller, the mission could already be in jeopardy, but Roman kept that thought to himself as he debated what to do. Ultimately, the decision was up to Shepherd, and he wrestled with himself for a few more moments before pulling out his phone. “Hey. It’s me. Remi wants to meet with you tonight, and I think you should see her. She has some information to share with you that could prove . . . useful.” There was a pause. “She did, but I think you should hear it from her. I could—” He stopped and listened once more. “Understood. See you then.”

“Well?” Jane asked impatiently when he hung up and studied her speculatively. “What’s it going to be? I haven’t got all night. I’ve moved in with Weller. He’s working late, but he’ll expect me to be at home when he arrives.”

Roman motioned her to follow him. He strode to one of the cars parked nearby and popped the trunk. “Get in.”

“What?” Jane looked from him to the enclosed space and back again. “I’m not—”

“Get. In,” Roman repeated. “If you want to meet with Shepherd, you’ll crawl in there, right now, no questions asked. We can’t take a chance on your baby daddy still being suspicious enough to have a tail on you and following us. Last chance.”

Jane glared at him, but she climbed into the trunk without another word. He shut the lid, and they drove around for what felt like hours before stopping. “Where are we?” she asked as Roman opened the trunk and extended a hand to help her out.

He didn’t answer her, simply motioned her ahead of him to where another car was parked in front of a large metal globe, two armed men leaning against it. One of them opened the car door, and a woman stepped out and walked over to them. “Did you sweep her?”

Roman shook her head. “I’ve checked her before, and she’s come up clean every time. It’s not necessary. She’s one of us.”

“You’ll forgive me if I need a little more.” The woman slipped her hands in the pockets as her coolly assessing gaze met Jane’s.

“You think I’m wired?” Jane demanded as she stepped toward her. “I have done _everything_ you asked since I got back.” With the exception of not shooting Kantor, which Roman had thankfully covered up. “I took a _bullet_ to escape Cade after being _tortured_ for three months. What more do you want? You think I’m working for _them?_ You know what? If that’s what it takes to meet Shepherd, then sweep me.” She lifted her arms and the woman nodded to one of the men with her, who quickly ran a scanner over her body, Jane keeping her eyes locked on the woman’s the entire time.

“My apologies,” the woman said when the man had finished, closing the remaining distance between herself and Jane. “We can’t be too careful, can we?” Her eyes softened slightly as she studied Jane. “It’s so good to see you again.”

Jane stared at her for a moment before her eyes darted to Roman, who was watching her steadily, and then back. “You’re . . .”

“I’m Shepherd,” the woman told her. “I’m your mother.”

“Wha—” Jane paled, hardly able to believe her ears. She desperately wanted this to be nothing more than a bad dream, but one glance at Roman’s face put that hope to flight. “My mother? But how . . . how is that—”

“Everything Roman told you about your history is correct,” Shepherd explained. “You were born as Alice Kruger in Pretoria, South Africa, and your birth parents were anti-apartheid activists killed by the government. You were sent to a secret academy at an orphanage where you were trained to be a soldier, and you excelled there. What we didn’t tell you was . . .”

She swallowed hard. “You didn’t join our organization later in life, as you assumed. I was one of the American soldiers who liberated you from that hell when apartheid fell. Most of the children were placed in foster care, but you and your brother—” she glanced at Roman, and Jane followed suit, her eyes glistening at the implication of Shepherd’s words, at the tears in her . . . brother’s eyes, “—were too dangerous. Too _special._ No one could handle you, so I chose to raise you myself.

Jane stammered a little, glancing at Roman again, struggling to form a coherent thought, and Shepherd went on. “You wanted new names, to distance yourselves from a past you wanted to forget. You chose them together. Roman . . . and Remi.”

“It’s a lot to take in,” Roman said as Jane’s eyes kept darting between him and Shepherd. “And I’m sure Weller will be expecting you back soon, so we need to talk about your news.”

“Weller’s expecting you back at the office?” Shepherd asked. “Are you working on a tattoo case?”

“No, uh . . .” Jane hesitated. “I’ve been trying to get closer to Weller again like you asked, and we’ve started . . . seeing one another. I’m . . .”

“She’s pregnant,” Roman cut in impatiently, unable to keep the news to himself for a second longer, anxious to see Shepherd’s reaction to the news.

If they had expected Shepherd to show any emotion, they were destined to disappointment. She barely batted an eyelash as she replied, “Congratulations,” in a tone that sent chills down Jane’s spine. This was her _mother?_ She clearly wasn’t the warm and fuzzy type, but couldn’t she have displayed a little emotion at the news of an impending _grandchild?_

Her first words had made Jane cold, but her next chilled her to the bone. “I know this is probably not what you want to hear right now,” she continued, “but it would be best if you had an abortion. We weren’t expecting this kind of . . . complication, and it could hamper your ability to be useful to us. This mission is too important to—”

“No! If I do that, I’ll lose Weller,” Jane cut in, unable to stay silent a moment longer. Desperately willing Roman to speak up on her behalf, but from the way his eyes darted between her and Shepherd, she clearly couldn’t expect any help on that front. “You told me to get close to him. I thought this was what you _wanted._ ”

Shepherd’s brow furrowed. “Weller knows about . . . the baby? You told him before you discussed it with us? Did you _plan_ to get pregnant?”

“No,” Jane admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t love and want my _child._ I’m sorry Weller found out before you, but it couldn’t be helped.” She quickly explained the circumstances surrounding that revelation. “He’s been over-the-moon ever since he learned of it. He even moved me in with him. Look, I know the timing is not ideal, but—”

“You moved in with him? Where does he think you are now?” Shepherd questioned. Remi clearly believed that she could use this pregnancy to manipulate Weller, but she knew her daughter well enough to know that she wouldn’t be sleeping with a man she didn’t have feelings for. The only question was whether or not she was aware of them. At this point, it was pretty much a toss-up as to who was playing whom. But recognizing that did give her something of an edge.

“At home resting,” Jane assured her. “He had a lot of performance reviews to go through tonight, and apparently we expectant mamas need our rest. He didn’t think he would make it home until after ten, at least.” She hated how easily the lies slid off her tongue. When this was over, she hoped she could avoid ever telling another one. At least, any of consequence.

Shepherd glanced at her watch. That gave them plenty of time to figure out their next move. As much as she hated it, now that Weller knew about his child, Remi was indeed correct: abortion wasn’t an option. Though she suspected she would have had to have been forced to have one anyway. She was clearly desperate to hold onto the one good thing that had appeared in her life after a year of turmoil. And for the moment, Shepherd was inclined to let her. The situation would bear watching, but she knew just how to do that. “You do realize that Weller’s just a pawn in this mission of ours? That he’s _expendable?”_ They all were when it came right down to it. Even Remi.

 _Especially_ Remi.

“Of course,” Jane replied without missing a beat, though the thought of anything happening to Kurt was almost too much to bear. _Not on my watch._ “Weller’s a friend, and I would hate to lose him, but I know the mission comes first. And I certainly don’t feel for him what I did for Oscar.” Thank _god_. “I would hate for our child not to have the opportunity to know its daddy, but if the worst does happen, at least I’ll always have someone to remember him by.”

“And you’re certain Weller’s feelings for you are genuine?” Shepherd questioned, sidestepping the issue of Remi’s potential divided loyalties for the moment. “That he _trusts_ you again?”

“Absolutely,” Jane replied confidently. “There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for me at this point.” Though her definition of that and theirs probably differed greatly.

A second later, she found out just how greatly. “Good,” Shepherd said with a Cheshire cat grin. “Then here’s what I want you to do . . .”

Jane was still staggering under the weight of that request, no, _order_ —and all that she had learned—when she arrived back at the NYO forty-five minutes later. Kurt was impatiently pacing the annex waiting for her, and one look at her face had him rushing to envelop her in a bone-crushing hug.

“Are you all right?” he demanded when he pulled back, his hands coming up to frame her jaw, his eyes frantically scanning her for any sign of injury. He couldn’t find any obvious signs of trauma, but something was obviously wrong. “The baby . . .”

“We’re fine, Kurt,” Jane assured him, wrapping her arms around him once more, letting his solid warmth begin to thaw the chill deep inside her. God, what had she ever done to deserve him? “Roman and I just . . . talked for a while, and then he took me to meet Shepherd.”

“You met Shepherd?” Nas asked sharply as she approached. “What did he have to say?”

Jane swallowed hard. “Not _he._ Shepherd’s a woman.” And not just any woman. She drew back from Kurt, seeing him and Nas exchanged stunned glances, as she prepared to confess the rest. “Shepherd . . . she’s my adoptive mother. And Roman is my _brother.”_

Nas gaped at her. “They’re your . . .”

“They’re my _family,”_ Jane finished when Nas faltered.

 _He_ was her family. He and their child and Sarah and Sawyer. Kurt opened his mouth to remind her of that, but she rushed on before he could correct her.

“Shepherd was one of the soldiers who liberated our orphanage after apartheid fell,” Jane continued. The other children were placed in foster care, but apparently the two of us were too dangerous for anyone else to handle, so Shepherd took us in and raised us.”

 _That was bullshit,_ Kurt thought, but he kept his opinion to himself for the moment. It made no sense that all the children received the same training, but only two of them couldn’t be rehabilitated. Jane filled them in on the rest of what Shepherd had told her, and his blood boiled when he learned she’d been ordered to have an abortion. “That’s it. She’s not going back.”

“Weller.” Nas blew out a breath. “You know that’s not an option. Besides, Shepherd agreed that Jane could keep the baby. Problem solved.”

The fact that a third party thought they had a say in the future of their unborn child was a problem that would _never_ be resolved as long as Shepherd was free. “Yes, and she could change her mind about that tomorrow,” Kurt argued. “She could force Jane to . . .” He couldn’t even bear to say the words aloud. How could a _grandmother_ be so callous?

“That’s a risk we’re just going to have to take,” Nas said, effectively ending the conversation for the night. If he’d stayed there another minute, he’d have throttled her, so Kurt simply excused himself and Jane, and drove them home.

He’d sensed all throughout the conversation that Jane was holding something back, and he tugged her over to the couch as soon as they arrived, pulling her down onto his lap. “Out with it, Jane,” he said tenderly. “What aren’t you telling me? This is a concerned boyfriend asking, not the director of the NYO.”

“Isn’t what I’ve already told you enough?” Jane demanded in disbelief. “I’m a _terrorist,_ Kurt. Ever since I started learning more about Sandstorm, I’ve been hoping that Oscar was lying to me, that this wasn’t my idea, but clearly that isn’t the case. My _family_ are the masterminds behind this plot. I’m like . . . terrorist royalty.”

Kurt chuckled. “You know that isn’t a thing, right?” He sobered at the look she shot him. “Look, Jane . . .” He took a moment to compose his thoughts. “Has learning they’re your family changed how you feel in any way?” he asked her. “Are you any less determined to take them down? More sympathetic to their cause?”

“No, of course not,” Jane said instantly. “What they’re doing is _wrong,_ Kurt, whatever it is. I’ve witnessed them taking out enough innocent people who were just doing their jobs to accomplish this objective. I’m not going to let them claim any more lives if I can help it. But you . . . you should get the hell away from me while you still can. While you still have a career and a reputation intact.”

“Not a chance,” Kurt grinned. Those things could be damned as far as he was concerned. He was keeping her. “You agreed to give a relationship between us a try this morning, Ms. Doe, and I’m holding you to that. There are no takebacks.”

He didn’t understand the stakes. “Kurt,” Jane said a little desperately, “you don’t understand. You need to break up with me. _Now.”_

“Why?” Kurt’s brow furrowed as he heard the urgency in Jane’s voice. “I thought Shepherd wanted us together. Did she threaten me if we remain a couple?”

“No,” Jane assured him at once. Quite the opposite, in fact. She swallowed hard, glancing away. “She . . . Shepherd pointed out that guys accidentally get girls pregnant all the time. She said all their research indicated that you’re a pretty traditional guy, and she wants proof that . . . that this thing is real between us. That I’m still loyal to them, and this isn’t just a ruse to infiltrate their organization.”

Jane took a deep breath as she finally met his eyes. “She wants me to convince you to marry me.”


	8. Chapter 8

_She wants me to convince you to marry me._

Jane’s statement hung in the air between them, and Kurt exhaled slowly as her words sank in. “Well . . . Shepherd’s right about one thing. I _am_ a pretty traditional guy. And that doesn’t seem like such an unreasonable request, under the circumstances.”

Jane gaped at him. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but it wasn’t _that._ “Have you _completely_ lost your mind?” she demanded. “You can’t _marry_ me because Shepherd _ordered_ you to.”

“Okay, then.” Kurt grinned at her. “I’ll marry you because _I_ want to.”

Jane just shook her head. “You know,” she mentioned, “for a guy that claims to be _traditional,_ your way of doing things is anything but. We haven’t even been on a first date yet, and you’ve already got the baby on the way and now the marriage? I think you might need to look up the meaning of the word.”

Kurt shrugged. “So, I may have taken a roundabout way of getting there. The end result is still the same.”

Not for her, it wasn’t. At least, not _necessarily._ “Is it?” Jane asked warily. “We only just agreed to give our _relationship_ a try, Kurt. _Marriage_ is a huge step under the best of circumstances. We don’t even know if we’re compatible long-term or not.”

 _He_ knew. And deep down, he had a feeling she did too. But he understood her objections. _No_ woman wanted to feel like a man was marrying her even partly because he _had_ to. He couldn’t entirely ease that fear, but perhaps he could lessen the sting of it. “Jane. You know we have to do this.”

“I know,” Jane agreed reluctantly.

“But—” Kurt continued as if she hadn’t spoken, “that doesn’t mean we have to do it _tomorrow._ Shepherd said for you to _convince_ me, right? That takes time. And even after you do that, we’ll still have to plan the wedding. We already promised Sarah we’d invite her, so we can’t just elope. This isn’t going to happen overnight, Jane.” And between now and then, he’d give her the courtship that every woman dreamed of. The proposal she _deserved._ He was determined that she wouldn’t look back a few years from now and have even _one_ regret.

“Now,” he added in a determinedly lighter tone, “I know for a fact that you didn’t eat much for dinner, so why don’t I fix us a late-night snack, and then we can head to bed. I’m sure things will look much better tomorrow.”

Jane nodded, clearly not convinced but too tired to argue further, and the two of them shared a bag of popcorn before heading off to bed. Kurt was relieved that despite the tensions of the day and the uncertainty of the future, she instantly reached out to him the moment he slid beneath the covers next to her, falling asleep almost the moment she was comfortably situated.

Sleep was much longer coming for him, as he plotted his course of action in the coming days and weeks, but when he did finally doze off, it was with a contented smile on his lips.

He put his plan into action as soon as he arrived at work the next morning. Shortly after ten, he glanced out into the bullpen just in time to see a flower deliveryman step off the elevator, escorted by an agent, and head straight to Jane’s desk. He saw her shock as she realized what he was carrying was for her before a wide smile bloomed on her face as she read the accompanying card.

And then she burst into tears.

Kurt was out of his seat in an instant and sprinting to her side. “Jane? What is it? What’s wrong?”

“N-n-nothing,” Jane choked out as Kurt pulled her into his arms, still crying, feeling her tears begin to dampen his shirt. “The flowers are just so b-beautiful, and the teddy bear is so _cute,_ and the chocolates . . . It’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me,” she sobbed out as she cried harder. The nicest thing she could remember, anyway.

Kurt simply held Jane as she cried, rubbing her back soothingly. He was astute enough to realize the crying jag had probably been triggered by pregnancy hormones, but he suspected that emotions too long bottled up were the reason it was continuing. “You okay?” he asked when her tears finally slowed.

“Yeah.” Jane’s cheeks were pink as she drew back and looked at him. “Sorry about that. I don’t know what came over me.”

Kurt flashed her a lopsided grin as he brought his thumbs up to swipe away the tear tracks from her cheeks. “I do. It’s those pregnancy hormones Sarah mentioned the other night. She showed up at my door one day when she was pregnant with Sawyer bawling like a baby with a terrified cabbie in tow. It took her a while to calm down enough to explain that it was due to a dead cat she’d seen on the side of the road.”

Jane gaped at him. “She was crying over _roadkill?”_ Although come to think of it, the thought of an animal dying all alone like that _was_ pretty sad.

“Hey,” Kurt said hastily as Jane looked alarmingly like she might cry again, hoping to divert her attention, “you still owe me an answer to my question.”

Jane smiled as she picked up the card that had come with the flowers and read it again.

_Jane,_

_You and I have had our ups and downs, but I wouldn’t trade a moment of the heartache we’ve been through if it meant we wouldn’t be together now. I was more blessed than I knew the day you came into my life. Have dinner with me tonight?_

_Kurt_

“I _live_ with you now,” Jane pointed out practically. “I have dinner with you _every_ night.”

“Not like this,” Kurt corrected. “Not at the apartment. I thought I’d take you out to eat. I think it’s time we went out on our first date, don’t you? I didn’t have a chance to make a reservation anywhere fancy, but I thought you might prefer to pick the place anyway.” Her morning sickness seemed to be getting better, but he certainly didn’t want to take a chance on going anywhere the smells might upset her.

Jane looped her arms around his neck. “Yes,” she said softly. “I would love to go out to dinner with you.” She suddenly became aware of the side-eyed glances being levelled their way and quickly stepped back, putting a more professional distance between them.

“Great,” Kurt said, already anxious for this day to be over so they could be on their way. “In that case, I’d better get back to work so we can get out of here early.” It had been so quiet around here lately he knew they were overdue to catch a case, but he hoped if anything did come up today that it wouldn’t be tattoo-related and another team could handle it. He and Jane needed this.

Jane sat back down at her desk as Kurt headed back to his office, pushing the vase of carnations to one side and propping the teddy bear up against her computer monitor. She was aware that she was grinning like an idiot as she placed the chocolates in a desk drawer to snack on later, but she couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off her face.

At least not until a shadow crossed her desk, and she looked up to find Zapata perching on the edge of it. “Something I can help you with, Zapata?” Jane asked evenly, determined not to be cowed by the other woman’s piercing stare.

“Weller looks happier than I’ve ever seen him,” Zapata said, almost to herself, as she studied Jane, who had been sporting a similar expression until her arrival. “I’m trying hard to be glad for him—for _both_ of you.” She’d had several long talks with Reade over the weekend, and she knew it was time to try to bury the hatchet. “But if you hurt him again, I swear to god, I _will_ end you.”

Jane leaned back in her chair and studied Zapata soberly. “If I hurt him again, I won’t lift a hand to stop you,” she vowed, keeping her eyes locked on Zapata’s so the woman could see just how much she meant every word.

Zapata nodded slowly. “Good. Then I think we understand one another. Welcome back to the team, Jane.” She walked away without a backwards glance.

Kurt tensed every time his phone rang for the remainder of the day, but fortunately their luck held and no new cases came in. He went in search of Jane shortly before five, finding her curled up on the couch in the visitor’s area fast asleep. He pulled out his phone and took a picture before he gently shook her awake. “Jane. Ready to go?”

“Mmm.” Jane smiled as she sleepily blinked open her eyes to find Kurt kneeling next to her. “How long have I been asleep?”

“How long have you been in here?” Kurt asked.

“Since about . . .” Jane thought for a minute. “Two-thirty. The couch looked so inviting that I thought I’d lay down just for a minute, but I must have dozed off. What time is it now?”

“Five o’clock,” Kurt told her, smiling at her startled look. He helped her to her feet and bundled her into her coat. “I’m glad you got a nice long nap in. You need your rest, sweetheart.” He made a mental note to purchase a futon for his office so she could be closer to him next time. “Have you decided where you want to eat tonight?”

Her stomach chose that moment to grumble, reminding her that she hadn’t had her now-customary mid-afternoon snack. “Mexican sounds good, but I don’t have any particular restaurant in mind.” In the past, she had just picked up takeout from the place nearest her safe house, but that place wasn’t really suitable for a date.

A date. Jane’s stomach tightened at the reminder. This was her and Kurt’s first official outing as a couple. Her first-ever romantic outing that she could remember, and she was as nervous as any teenage girl on her first date.

“No problem,” Kurt told her. “There’s a nice place not far from our apartment.” He draped an arm around her shoulders as they walked to the elevator, feeling the tension she was trying so hard to hide, and he ran a hand up and down her arm soothingly.

“Relax,” he told her once they’d arrived at the restaurant, and the waiter had taken their orders. “It’s just the two of us having a meal together. Just like we’ve been doing at the apartment, only out in public tonight. No pressure.”

“No pressure,” Jane repeated sarcastically. “Right. When I know we’re supposed to end up . . .” She waved a hand between them, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to say the word _married._ It still seemed surreal.

Kurt grinned at her. “See, that should take even more pressure off. You already know how it’s going to end up. You don’t have to worry about trying to impress me or wonder if I’ll stick around for the long haul. Look at it this way,” he continued when she still didn’t look convinced, “we’ve already seen each other at our worst, survived things that would have made most couples run for the hills, and we’re still here and we still care for one another. If we can get through that, we can get through anything.”

Jane nodded, warmed by his words. “It doesn’t bother you, though?” she asked. “That we’re pawns in Shepherd’s game? That we’re being _ordered_ to do her bidding?”

Kurt stretched his hand across the table and took hers in his. “No one is _forcing_ me to do anything, Jane.” He leaned toward her, lowering his voice conspiratorially.” I don’t know if you’ve noticed this about me, but I’m pretty stubborn.” Jane’s lips quirked up in a smile. “Shocking, I know. But it does mean that no international terrorist can _force_ me to marry their daughter. Even one as beautiful and kind and loving as you. I’m in this because I _want_ to be.”

Jane turned her hand in his to grip his tightly, feeling her lingering doubts slip away at his sweet words. “I’m in this because I want to be, too,” she assured him. “So . . .” She cleared her throat and took a sip of water. “When do we tell people we’re engaged?”

Kurt raised an eyebrow. “Getting ahead of yourself there, aren’t you, Ms. Doe? I haven’t even proposed to you yet.”

“You’re actually going to . . .” Jane’s voice trailed off as she stared at him. _Of course he was,_ she realized even as he nodded. Because that was the kind of man Kurt Weller was. He didn’t do things by half measures, and he was clearly on a mission to make her feel special. Wanted. _Loved._

And over the next few weeks, he succeeded in doing exactly that. He showered her with presents—everything from random pieces of jewelry that he said reminded him of her to an all-day shopping spree because she didn’t have enough and warm enough clothes—laughingly ignoring her protests that it was too much. He took her to movies and museums and even an impromptu picnic in Central Park one unseasonably warm Saturday, but her favorite times were the evenings when they would come home and cuddle up together on the couch and watch a movie.

They hadn’t had sex yet—or _again—_ but things had gotten pretty heated between them on several occasions before Kurt had pulled back, much to Jane’s frustration. He was intent on giving her a proper courtship when all she wanted was relief from the hormones that seemed to be growing worse by the day. She went from happy to angry or upset at the drop of a hat these days, causing everyone to walk on eggshells around her, which only made her more unhappy.

But nothing bothered her worse than watching the team go out into the field without her. As happy as she was with Kurt, with the life they were building together, it felt like she was losing control of the one part of her life that had always made sense to her and letting her teammates down by not being there to watch their backs.

She never breathed easy until they were back in the building, and she could see for herself they were safe and sound. Kurt knew how she felt, and he always made a point to come find her first thing, to hug her and let her feel the solid reassurance of his love for her as he assured her that he was all right.

Until the day that he didn’t.

Patterson had burst into Kurt’s office shortly after eleven, interrupting Jane’s now customary mid-morning nap, to inform them that she had decoded another tattoo. The office building it led to seemed innocuous enough, but Kurt had adamantly refused to consider letting Jane accompany them.

That turned out to be a wise decision, because the team had come under heavy fire when they followed the lead to the company’s nearby warehouse and had split up to take out the shooters. By the time the threat had been neutralized, though, Kurt was nowhere to be found. The entire thing had been a setup to grab him in a vain attempt to force a prisoner swap. Jane knew as soon as she heard their demands, saw Pellington’s face, that there would be no exchange.

The twenty-four hours that followed were absolute hell for her. She refused to leave Kurt’s office, barely eating or sleeping, spending most of the time pacing and cursing Pellington in every language she knew—and a few she hadn’t known she’d known—for ordering the team to keep her out of the loop.

Still, she knew enough of the team’s behavior to know when they caught a break in the case. It was mid-afternoon the next day when she spotted Reade, Zapata, and Patterson in a heated discussion with Pellington and Nas out in the bullpen and shortly afterwards, agents began assembling in full tactical gear. “What’s going on?” she asked Patterson as she slipped out to join them.

It was Pellington who answered. “We’ve got a possible location on Assistant Director Weller. The agents are heading out to take the building now.”

Jane was aghast. It was clear the other members of the group weren’t happy either. “You can’t just go in there guns blazing. What if—”

“That is _not_ your call, Ms. Doe,” Pellington interrupted brusquely. He glanced at Patterson. “Make sure she stays here.”

 _How the hell was she supposed to do that?_ Patterson wondered as Pellington strode away toward the office he had commandeered, a clearly unhappy Nas gearing up to go with the team. No one at the NYO was any match for Jane when she set her mind to something, and now that it was Weller’s life on the line . . . “You know Kurt wouldn’t want you to put yourself at risk,” she told the other woman as she took an angry step forward. “He’d want you and the baby to be safe.”

Jane’s shoulders slumped as she turned to face Patterson. “I know,” she admitted wearily, “but I need to at least _be_ there, Patterson. He’d do the same for me if the situation was reversed.”

 _There would be no containing Weller if the situation were reversed,_ Patterson thought, her heart aching for Jane at the sight of her red-rimmed eyes, the shadows dark beneath them. She gave her an impulsive hug, feeling Jane stiffen before she hesitantly returned it. They had all been so focused on getting Weller back alive that none of them had offered more than the barest words of encouragement to Jane.

“Come on,” she said, keeping her arm draped around Jane as she steered her back toward Weller’s office. “The team promised to call me as soon as they know something, so I’ll wait for word with you. And as soon as we hear that Weller’s all right—” she refused to entertain any other possible outcome, “—I’ll take you to where he’s at. I _promise.”_ Director Pellington be damned.

She supposed she would have to be content with that. She had no idea where the team had gone and no way to get there even if she did. And Kurt would be furious with her if she risked her life—their baby’s life—to try. Jane settled on the futon next to Patterson and watched the minutes tick by with agonizing slowness.

Both women were startled when Patterson’s cell phone finally rang. “Tasha. What’s the word? How’s—”

Zapata apparently cut Patterson off, talking for what seemed an interminable length of time to Jane. It was all she could do not to grab the phone herself and demand answers. Her heart sank at the grave look on Patterson’s face, and she braced herself for the worst as the woman hung up the phone and turned to her.

“Jane . . .” Judging by the look on her face, the other woman already knew what she was going to say. “Kurt’s been shot.”


	9. Chapter 9

The drive to the hospital seemed to take an eternity. Jane sat on the edge of her seat, her hands fisted in her lap, her eyes constantly scanning the road as she willed other drivers to get out of their way so they could drive faster. Patterson had the lights and sirens going, but even so, progress was slow.

She was dimly aware that Patterson was speaking to her, reassuring her, but she tuned her out as she had everything else she’d said since she broke the news that Kurt had been shot. Borden laid a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged him off as the hospital finally came into view.

Jane jumped out of the car the moment Patterson put it in park in front of the emergency entrance. Behind her, she could hear Borden telling Patterson to go with her, that he would park the car, but she was so focused on getting to Kurt’s side that she paid no attention to Patterson’s shouts to wait.

In retrospect, that was probably a mistake.

Jane rushed up to the counter, paying no attention to the other patrons of the waiting room. “I’m here for Kurt Weller,” she said to the woman at the desk. “Where is he?”

The woman hesitated. “Only family are allowed to be with the patients. Can I ask what your relationship is to him?”

“I’m . . .” Jane hesitated. Would claiming she was his fiancée be enough to get her back there? She decided not to take any chances. “I’m his wife.” The lie slid easily off her tongue. It would be true soon enough, and truth be told, she already _felt_ married anyway.

“No,” said a dry voice from behind her, and Jane felt her heart sink as she turned to face Pellington. How had he gotten here before them? “She isn’t.” He took her arm and firmly escorted her away from the counter just as Patterson burst through the doors. “What are you doing here, Ms. Doe? Agent Patterson—” he levelled a stern look at her as she came to a halt beside them, “—I thought I made it plain that you were to keep her at the NYO. Was I not clear enough?”

Patterson was appalled. “But, sir, you can’t mean for her not to see Kurt now. He’s . . . she’s . . . they’re practically engaged!”

“The key word there being _practically,”_ Pellington told her. “Ms. Doe may be carrying Kurt’s child, but she isn’t his wife, or even his emergency contact. She has no legal right to see him, and we’re sworn to uphold the law, Agent Patterson. Even when we don’t like it.”

“Please,” Jane begged him. “I just need to see for myself that he’s all right.” It was one thing to hear Patterson say his wound wasn’t serious, and another to see it with her own eyes. “Five minutes. That’s all I’m asking.”

“Absolutely not.” Pellington brushed aside the request without a moment’s consideration. “You can see Weller when he’s released and not a moment before. And you can count yourselves lucky I’m not ordering you back to the office and putting an official reprimand in your file, Agent Patterson. Now I suggest you two take a seat before I change my mind.”

Jane glanced at the double doors separating her from Kurt, mentally calculating her odds of success if she made a break for it. The burly security guard nearby gave her pause, but she was certain she could take him.

Patterson tightened her grip on Jane’s arm as she saw the other woman’s eyes dart around and realized what she was planning. “Don’t try it,” she hissed as she walked them over to some empty seats. “You definitely won’t be able to see Kurt if you get carted off to jail.” Something she had little doubt Pellington would condone if Jane pushed the issue. She didn’t know what the hell he was thinking. Weller was going to be furious when he found out how Jane had been treated.

“I have to see him, Patterson,” Jane murmured desperately as she took a seat. She needed to see for herself that he was okay, feel his arms around her—around _them—_ once more.

“I know, Jane,” Patterson returned quietly, her heart aching for her friend. Pellington was watching them like a hawk at the moment, so she picked up a magazine and pretended to thumb through it to allay his suspicions, stopping at several pages to point something out to Jane. “Just go with it,” she said when Jane barely glanced at them. “I have a plan.”

“You do?” Jane asked, and lowered her voice when several people glanced their way. “What is it?”

Borden walked in at that moment, and Patterson waited until he had caught Pellington’s attention to speak. “You can fake a medical emergency. If you tell them you’re pregnant and complain of abdominal pain, they’ll have to take you back and check you out.”

Jane hesitated. She was desperate to see Kurt, but she hated the idea of drawing attention to herself. Not to mention, if she faked that emergency, she would be wasting the staff’s time when they could be treating other patients with genuine needs. She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could utter a word, the doors burst open, and Kurt appeared.

Jane surged to her feet with a choked cry, moving toward him just as he spotted her, and the two of them met halfway, hugging each other fiercely. Kurt was dirty and bruised, sporting several cuts in addition to his now-bandaged arm, but she didn’t care about any of that, because he was warm and solid and _alive._

There were tears in both their eyes when they finally pulled back, and Kurt gently caressed the tear tracks from Jane’s cheeks. “How long have you been here? You should have come back as soon as you arrived.” He was glad he’d finally gotten tired of waiting and come in search of her.

“I tried,” Jane choked out. “B-but they wouldn’t let me back there because I wasn’t a relative or your emergency contact. God, Kurt. I thought . . . I was so afraid that . . .”

“Shh.” Kurt gently cupped the back of her head as he pulled her close again. “I’m here, Jane. I’m _fine._ The bullet only grazed me. It’s just a scratch. I’m going to be discharged soon, and we can go home, okay? And I promise I’ll update my paperwork to list you as my emergency contact first thing in the morning.” He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of that sooner. “You should have just told them you were my wife.”

“Oh, she did,” Pellington said dryly as he approached. “Fortunately, I was here to correct that . . . misapprehension.”

Kurt stiffened as he stared at his boss. “You kept Jane from coming back to see me? _Why?”_

“I upheld the rules of this hospital,” Pellington corrected. “Ms. Doe may see nothing wrong with playing fast and loose with them, but as the director of the FBI, I’m sworn to uphold the law. As are you, need I remind you, _Assistant_ Director Weller. She’s not your wife, or even your fiancée, and—”

“She’s the woman I love,” Kurt corrected heatedly. “The mother of my unborn child. I—”

“Really?” interrupted an unfamiliar voice, and they all swiveled to face a woman in the chair to their right, who had her hands on her ample hips. “The director of the FBI takes time out of his busy schedule to personally protect a big, strong agent from his skinny-ass baby mama? I feel so much safer now, don’t ya’ll?” she asked, addressing the crowd around her.

Pellington’s face reddened as the women in the vicinity laughed, but he refused to rise to the bait, turning back to Weller. “As I was saying . . .” he began.

“No need to explain, sir,” Kurt told him. “You have a good point.” One he could fix right now. He reached in his pants pocket for the ring he’d been carrying with him every day recently waiting for the right moment, the ring he’d refused to leave his captors’ hideout without. He took one of Jane’s hands in his as he got down on one knee and flipped open the small velvet box, smiling as he met her eyes and saw first dawning awareness and then tears shimmering there.

“Jane . . . I’ve been waiting for just the right moment to give you this, but I realized while I was waiting— _praying—_ for the team to find me that there was never _going_ to be a perfect moment, because that’s not who we are. Things have never been ideal for us, but somehow we’ve found our way to one another in spite of all those hardships, and I don’t want to face another of life’s challenges without you by my side. Will you marry me?”

Jane’s tears spilled over as she nodded, and she watched as if in a dream as Kurt slid the diamond engagement ring onto her finger. She tugged on his arm, and he quickly got to his feet, enveloping her in the fiercest hug yet as he spun her around before lowering her to her feet and tenderly kissing her.

They broke apart to the sound of applause behind them. They had been so wrapped up in one another that they’d completely forgotten they were in a public waiting room. Pellington was the only person who didn’t look happy for them. “Do you really think it’s wise to—”

“Oh, give it a rest and congratulate them,” the same woman broke in. “They’re clearly in love. Just because you have a perpetual stick up your ass doesn’t mean the rest of the world needs to be miserable.” This time, a chorus of other voices chimed in, agreeing with her.

Pellington glared at her, but she stared unflinchingly right back. He glanced around the room, noting even the woman behind the counter was eyeing him with thinly veiled disgust, and strode out without a backwards glance to cheers and catcalls.

“That . . . probably wasn’t the best career move,” Jane murmured as Borden and Patterson approached, but Kurt simply shrugged. Pellington wasn’t going to fire him now, and they both knew it. Hopefully by the time they took down Sandstorm, his boss would have resigned himself to Jane’s role in his life. If not . . .

“You know you matter more to me than my career, right?” Kurt asked later when they got home. “I know things between us are pretty . . . new, and we agreed to take it slow, but I’m in this for the long haul. I’m not going anywhere, Jane, and when I say those vows . . . I’m going to mean every word of them.” He brought a hand up to cup her cheek. “I love you, Jane.”

“I love you, too.” Jane’s eyes were misty as she smiled at him before their lips met in a tender kiss. “You know what else I’d love?” she asked when she drew back. She looped her arms around his neck as he shook his head. “For you to take me to bed and do something about these pesky pregnancy hormones you helped create.” Hormones he had been driving to a fever pitch lately before pulling back.

“I think I can help with that.” Kurt’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he hefted her up in his arms, and their lips met in a fierce kiss as he walked them back to their room. He flipped the light on as he entered and set Jane down near the bed. “Are you sure you’re ready to . . .”

“I’m sure.” Jane brought her hands up to frame his jaw and drew him down for another kiss. Though she loved him even more for asking. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while.”

“Me too,” Kurt told her. “I’ve been dreaming of it ever since the last time, in fact.” But unlike last time, there would be no alcohol to dull his senses. He would get to see and explore every inch of her.

“Really?” Jane asked, warmed by his admission. He certainly hadn’t given her any indication that he felt that way.

“Mmmhmm,” Kurt said as Jane began unbuttoning his shirt. “I thought about asking you out for drinks so many times. But I guess in retrospect—” he brought his hand up to cover her still-flat stomach, in awe of the fact that there was a part of her and him growing there, “—in retrospect, it’s probably a good thing that I didn’t.”

“I probably wouldn’t have said yes anyway,” Jane confessed as she undid the last button. Kurt obligingly yanked his shirt off and tossed it out of the way while she removed her own and her bra, as well. “I would have wanted to, but after everything that happened . . .”

“I understand,” Kurt assured her. “When you think about it, this little one really has been . . . fortuitous, hasn’t she?” He knelt down before her for the second time that day and pressed a kiss to the spot that would shortly be swollen with their child. “Did you hear that, little lady? You brought mommy and daddy together. And we can’t _wait_ to meet you.”

Jane felt tears fill her eyes as Kurt popped the button on her jeans and removed her boots and socks, caressing each ankle as he pulled them off and lifting first one foot and then the other onto his thigh to massage it gently. Jane braced her hands on his shoulders as he did so, letting out a small moan at the pleasurable sensation. God, could he get any sweeter?

Eventually, she squeezed his shoulder, letting him know that she wanted his touch elsewhere. He held her gaze for a long moment before gently easing her pants down and off her. She stepped out of them, and he scooped her up in his arms again, carrying her even though the bed was only a few feet away, and laying her down on it so reverently.

He stripped down to his boxers before joining her, kneeling down at her feet and shaking his head when she reached for him. “Nuh-uh. This time I want to look at you.”

“You’ve seen _how_ many pictures of me?” Jane argued, but Kurt simply grinned at her.

“It’s not the same thing,” he told her as he placed his hands above her ankles and resumed his slow exploration up her legs, gently caressing them as he traced this tattoo and that. “The pictures didn’t do you justice.”

Jane smiled as his sweet words eased the last of her self-consciousness over her tattoos, and she lay back and watched as he slowly inched his way higher. When he reached her waist, he looked up at her, eyes asking a question, and when she nodded, he slowly eased her panties down the legs he had just travelled up.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Kurt said as he tossed them aside and moved to join her, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look his fill. He traced the burning rose on her stomach, laughing when she squirmed a little, and then moved higher, his hand cupping her breast. He smiled as she moaned loudly and pressed herself into his hand. She had mentioned last week when things got heated between them that her breasts were more sensitive, and looking at them now, free from the confines of her bra, they were fuller than he remembered as well.

Jane’s head fell back into the pillow as Kurt rolled on top of her and brushed his thumbs over her hardened nipples, and she couldn’t restrain a loud moan as he took one into his mouth, her breath coming out in pants as he sucked gently before kissing his way across the valley between her breasts and giving the other one the same treatment.

She could feel the dampness growing between her thighs, and she shifted to press up against him to relieve the growing ache, muttering a curse when she realized he still had his boxers on. She shoved at them hastily, and he sat up long enough to yank them off before settling into the cradle of her thighs once more. Then it was his turn to groan as she took him in her hand and stroked his length gently, squeezing with such a perfect amount of pressure as she did so that he had to close his eyes briefly to avoid losing control.

Kurt captured her hand when he couldn’t take any more. He wanted to be one with her when he came. He brought her hand up to his lips, kissing her fingers before leaning down to capture her mouth with his own. Jane whimpered as the kiss deepened, squirming against him, and he reached a hand between them without ever breaking the kiss and guided himself inside her.

Both of them groaned in unison, overwhelmed by sensations that went far beyond the physical. There was a sense of completeness to their union, a homecoming that neither had felt before, even the first night they had come together. Then it had been an alcohol-fueled celebration of survival, despite the distance and the anger still between them, but now both of those things were gone, replaced by a deeper understanding and affection and trust than either of them had ever had with anyone, and it was just . . . right.

Kurt interlaced their fingers as Jane lifted her hips to his, and they settled into a gentle rhythm that allowed them to express what they felt for one another without words. It was lovemaking in the truest sense of the word, and he kept his eyes locked on Jane’s the entire time, speeding up when he saw her breathing quicken and felt her begin to clench around him. He groaned out her name as she came with a soft cry, rolling with her onto his back to avoid crushing her as he followed her over that edge into oblivion.

Jane was draped bonelessly across his body when he came back to earth, the two of them still intimately connected, and he pressed a kiss to her temple. “Hey. That was . . .” He shook his head, at a loss for words to describe how good it had been. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Jane brought a hand up to cup his cheek, and he pressed a kiss to her palm as she did so. The sparkling diamond on her finger caught the light, and she grinned as she stared at it. “We’re engaged.”

“We are,” Kurt confirmed with an equally wide smile on his face. “And just so you know . . . I don’t want a long engagement. So you’d better get started planning the wedding. Will a week be enough time?”

“A week?” Jane squeaked. She honestly had no idea if that would be enough time or not. She had no idea what went into planning a wedding. “Will Sarah even be able to get back here that fast?”

Kurt frowned as he considered the question. “Fine. Two weeks. Three, tops. I’m sure Patterson will be happy to help you pick out a dress.” They could have a justice of the peace marry them, unless she wanted to have a church wedding. And apart from that, and a venue for a small reception, he couldn’t think of anything more they would need.

He smacked Jane’s butt playfully. “Now . . . what do you say you get an early start on your wifely duties? I need a shower, and I could really use someone to wash my back for me.”

Jane laughed at the suggestive gleam in his eye, but the idea sounded too appealing to turn down. She wanted to spend every moment she could with him after spending the last day terrified she might have lost him forever.

It was the calm before the storm, and they both knew it.


	10. Chapter 10

The wedding planning didn’t exactly go off without a hitch, but they were married two weeks later.

And those two weeks were a whirlwind of activity. As Kurt had promised, Patterson had been ecstatic to help Jane pick out a dress, squealing so loudly Jane wished she’d covered her ears and promising to start searching for it that very night. She had dragged Jane to no less than five dress shops over the next few days before conceding that the one Jane had picked out at the very first store was right for her.

Patterson was also the one to point out the flaw in their logic the moment they told her their plans. “You guys can’t get married. Jane would have to have a birth certificate for that, and besides, Kurt, you don’t officially know her name.”

Kurt appeared flummoxed, but Jane laid a hand on his arm reassuringly. “Something tells me Shepherd’s already thought of that. I’m meeting with her in a couple days to let her know we’re engaged, so I’ll see what she has to say about it then.”

All Shepherd would say was that she did indeed have a plan, but that the less Jane knew about it, the better. She cautioned her once again not to develop feelings for Weller that would complicate her mission and then ordered Roman to drive Jane back to the city. Once again, she had to ride in the trunk.

“I’m getting really tired of being treated like a second-class member of this operation,” she fumed to Roman when he finally let her out. At least someone—him, no doubt—had placed a blanket in the trunk for her this time. “Tell Shepherd the next time she wants to see me, I’m riding in the passenger seat with a seatbelt on. If we get into an accident and I lose this baby, I lose my best leverage over Weller. I think I’ve proven my loyalty, but if she still has doubts, she should just cut me loose.”

Roman refrained from mentioning that retirement was a bit more permanent in their organization. His sister was nobody’s fool, and threatening her would serve no useful purpose at this stage of the game. “Goodbye, Remi. I’ll see you soon.” He got back in the car and drove away before she could question him further.

He walked into the FBI five days later.

Kurt was sitting at his desk engrossed in paperwork when his phone rang, and he answered it absently. “Yeah. Wait, _what?”_ He sat up straight and lowered his voice as he glanced over at Jane, who had just fallen asleep. “No. No, don’t do that. I’ll be right down.”

He walked quietly out of his office and motioned for Reade and Zapata to join him. “The guard in the lobby just called to tell me there’s an Ian Kruger downstairs claiming Jane is his sister Alice and demanding to see her.”

Zapata stared at him like he’d grown two heads. “Roman’s _here?”_ She placed a hand on her gun.

Kurt frowned as his eyes tracked the movement. “Stand down, Zapata. Roman— _Ian,”_ he stressed, realizing they all needed the reminder to call him by his birth name, “is probably here to provide Jane’s birth certificate like Shepherd promised so we can get married. But no matter what, we can’t risk tipping him off that we know who he is.”

Zapata glared at him. “You expect me to smile at that cop-killing son of a bitch, and—”

“I expect you to do _your job,”_ Kurt cut in icily. “One wrong move today could jeopardize Jane’s cover and cost us our shot at bringing down Sandstorm. And need I remind you, a hell of a lot more lives will be lost if they succeed.”

Zapata’s scowl deepened, but she nodded. “Fine. But don’t expect me to be all warm and fuzzy toward him.”

“I don’t want you to be,” Kurt told her. “Shepherd had to know that we’d be suspicious of Ro—Ian’s appearance after all this time, so play up that angle. That way, any hostility he feels from you, he should chalk up to your doubts about him and concern for Jane.”

“Does Jane know he’s here?” Reade asked.

“No,” Kurt said. “She’s asleep in my office, and frankly, I think it would be more believable if we met with him without her until we hear what he has to say.” He would also like to get his own sense of the man without Jane present. Roman had been the only real point of conflict in their relationship thus far. “I’m going to go down to the lobby and escort him up here to the conference room. Reade, I need you to go to the Annex and get Nas, and Zapata, I want you to inform Patterson. Have her bring a swab so we can take a sample of Ian’s DNA to run against Jane’s, but have her hand it off to one of her assistants to run the test. I want her to stay with Jane. And if Jane wakes before I send for her, have her keep her there.”

“How is she supposed to do that?” Zapata called, but Kurt was already striding to the elevator, and the doors closed before he could respond.

Despite his outward calm, he was more than a little nervous as the elevator descended to the ground floor. He spotted Ian as soon as the doors slid open, but he gave no sign that he recognized him, asking the guard at the desk to point him out before he approached with hand outstretched. “Mr. Kruger? I’m Assistant Director Kurt Weller. I understand you think our Jane Doe may be your sister.”

“Not think,” Roman corrected as he reluctantly shook Weller’s hand. “ _Know._ Here—” he withdrew a picture of the two of them from his coat pocket and held it out, “—this was one of the last pictures of us taken before . . .” He swallowed hard. “As you can see, she’s clearly the same woman as in the photo you released to the media last year.”

Kurt studied the picture in silence. It was a candid snapshot, clearly taken when they were unawares, the two of them playfully roughhousing with one another. Jane was laughing up at her brother, but what really struck him was the answering light in Roman’s eyes as he looked down at her. It was clear he loved her very much. Perhaps . . .

He handed the photo back. “Why don’t you come upstairs with me, and we’ll talk?”

It wasn’t really a request, but Roman protested anyway. “No! I don’t want to talk. I want . . . I _need_ to see my sister. The article I read said she was found . . . naked in Times Square, and that she had amnesia. Was she . . .? Is she . . .?”

Roman was certainly playing his part to perfection, Kurt thought ironically. He was asking all the questions law enforcement would expect a concerned, uninformed brother to voice. “She wasn’t . . . sexually assaulted, if that’s what you’re asking,” Kurt told him, playing out his own part in this little charade. “Come upstairs with me. We’ll talk about what’s happened to her, and obviously I have a few questions for you, but then I’ll let you see her. I promise.”

“Fine,” Roman conceded grudgingly as he followed Weller to the elevator. “I have to say, I wasn’t expecting an assistant director of the FBI to greet me personally. I thought one of the agents on Alice’s case would come talk to me.”

Roman was clearly baiting him, but Kurt refused to rise to the occasion. The time for the revelation of his relationship with Jane was not yet. “I was the lead agent on your sister’s case before I became Assistant Director,” he told him as the elevator ascended to their floor. “She and I became close, and because of that and . . . other factors, I decided to continue handling her case personally. But we can discuss that in more detail later.”

The elevator doors slid open, and he led the way to the conference room. Roman looked around as he followed, but he didn’t see any sign of Remi anywhere.

Nas was in a heated discussion with the team as they approached, but all conversation ceased as they entered the room. Kurt did his best to smooth over the awkwardness by making introductions. “Mr. Kruger, these are Agents Reade, Zapata, and Patterson, and Nas Kamal.

“Ian, please,” Roman said as he shook hands with the people who were eyeing him with varying degrees of suspicion, but no overt hostility. Weller sat down, and he noted with amusement that Zapata and Reade instantly took the seats on either side of him, flanking their boss protectively. “Tell me about Alice. How is she?”

“First things first.” Kurt motioned to Patterson, and she hesitantly approached Roman. “We’re going to need a DNA sample from you to confirm that you are Jane’s brother.”

Roman reluctantly opened his mouth to allow Patterson to swab his cheek, and she quickly got the sample she needed and exited the room. Kurt waited until he saw her hand the swab off to an assistant and head toward his office before getting down to business. He detailed how they had found Jane, watching Roman closely as he did so, and was interested to note that his jaw was clenched tightly the entire time, the pain in his eyes far too real to be feigned.

“Jane’s doing well now,” Kurt hastened to assure him. “She still hasn’t regained many of her memories, unfortunately, but she’s found a place here, and she’s happy.”

Roman stiffened. “I appreciate the care you’ve taken of my sister, Director Weller, but her _place_ is with me.”

Kurt tensed as well. “With all due respect, _Ian,_ Jane’s a grown woman, and that’s for her to decide. Assuming the DNA test backs up your claim, of course. And please, call me Kurt.” They were going to be brothers-in-law, after all, albeit reluctant ones.

“If her place is with you, how come she’s been with us for over a year, and you never reported her missing?” Zapata asked pointedly.

The moment of truth. Kurt waited with bated breath for Roman’s answer. His shoulders slumped, but this time it was clearly an act: there was no mistaking that brief, glittering flash of hatred in his eyes or the way the smile on his face froze for an instant before turning a shade colder. Whether that hatred was directed at the FBI in general or them— _him_ —in particular remained to be seen.

“I’ve been in Africa,” Roman said without missing a beat. “That’s where Alice and I were born, actually, and I’ve always wanted to go back, so I volunteered on a humanitarian mission to provide clean drinking water to villages there. That was apparently shortly before . . .”

He paused and took a deep breath. “Those villages were too remote to have cell service, but I did phone Alice any time I got to a bigger town. I just assumed she couldn’t take my calls at the time, or . . .” He hesitated. “Alice and I got into a big fight right before I left. She’s not normally the type to hold a grudge, but I thought maybe this time . . .” He spread his hands helplessly. “If I’d had any idea she was in trouble, I would have been on the first plane back to the States.”

“What was the fight about?” Kurt asked quickly.

“Her fiancé,” Roman said. “A man named Oscar Bougon. She'd been dating him for about a year, and she got engaged to him shortly before I left. I never thought he was good enough for her, couldn’t understand what she saw in him, but she accused me of being overprotective and laughed it off. Maybe I was, but our parents were killed when we were young, and we spent several years in an orphanage before a relative was located here in the US who took us in, so it’s always been just the two of us against the world.”

So far, the story was matching up fairly closely with what Roman had already told Jane. “What was this relative’s name?” Kurt asked.

“Trina Schafer,” Roman told him. “She was a distant cousin I don’t know how many times removed of our mother’s. She died a few years ago. She was kind enough to us, but she wasn’t exactly . . . the motherly type. Not that we were the easiest kids to parent. Sometimes I think that’s why Alice decided to marry Oscar. She wanted a family of her own to shower her kids with the love we never had.”

It was entirely plausible, and it made his heart ache. At least Jane would never have to worry about that again. “Tell me about Oscar,” Kurt requested. “Was he the type of guy to get involved with people who would do something like this to your sister?”

Roman shifted uncomfortably. “You’d have to ask him about that. Look, I don’t like the guy, but I don’t want to point fingers. The truth is, I don’t have any idea what he might have been into. I tried to steer clear of him as much as possible, but I never saw any indications that he was into anything illegal. If I had, I never would have left.” He frowned. “I don’t understand why he didn’t report her missing, though, or at least come forward to identify her. Do you think something might have happened to him?”

“We’ll look into that,” Kurt assured him, tongue-in-cheek. They both knew perfectly well _exactly_ what had happened to Oscar, and it seemed their feelings toward him might be more similar than he had had imagined, as well. “Is there anyone else you know of who might have had reason to be . . . upset with your sister? Colleagues or friends or . . .” Superspies who were trying to take over the free world?

“Not that I know of,” Roman admitted. “Alice was . . . between jobs at the time she was taken. Her previous one was so classified I don’t even know who she worked for, honestly, but they didn’t leave her much time for making friends. I’ve always thought it was a pity they didn’t keep her too busy to fall in love with Oscar.”

Kurt glanced down at the paper he’d been making notes on. Something told him Roman felt similarly about him, that there would _never_ be anyone good enough in his eyes for his precious sister. “Okay. I think we have all we need for now. I—”

“But I don’t,” Roman interrupted. “I want to know what’s being done to find the people who did this to my sister. And frankly, _Director_ Weller, given the fact that your name was tattooed on Alice’s back, your proximity to her concerns me. She may have been chosen to be the messenger for some unknown reason, but how do you know you’re not a target as well?”

Kurt stiffened. “Rest assured, Ian, I am chasing even the thinnest of leads to find the people responsible for this, and none of us will give up until they’re all behind bars. As for Jane being in danger by assisting in this investigation, she knows the risks, and she’s made the choice to stay. She’s free to walk away at any time, but as I'm sure you know, your sister is incredibly stubborn. And more than capable of defending herself.”

The air in the room became emotionally charged as the two of them glared at one another. “How did you figure out something had happened to your sister?” Nas broke in to defuse the tense situation. “If the two of you haven’t been on speaking terms all this time . . .”

“I gave her a call when I got in late last night, but there was no answer, so I went straight to her apartment this morning,” Roman said. “She’d given me a spare key, and I let myself in, and . . . that was when I knew. The place was covered in dust, and Alice’s wallet, cell phone, and car keys were all still there.”

“Her picture was all over the news,” Zapata pointed out skeptically. “Why didn’t one of the other tenants come forward to identify her?”

Roman shifted in his chair uncomfortably. “I, uh . . . I’m not sure they even knew she was living there, much less who she was. The apartment was Oscar’s,” he said reluctantly. “He signed a two-year lease on a bigger place once they got engaged, and Alice decided to move in with him. That’s why I had a key. I moved some of her things for her right before I left, and then we got into that fight, and I forgot to give it back to her.”

 _Bravo,_ Kurt thought cynically. Shepherd had concocted a story that was entirely plausible and at the same time, a complete dead end. He ripped the top sheet of paper off the tablet he had been making notes on and slid the notepad and pen across the table to Roman. “We’ll need to confirm your story. Please write down the names of the people on this humanitarian mission with you, as well as your departure and arrival dates and any flight information you can remember.”

Roman picked up the pen, but hesitated. “I’m happy to provide you with their names, but you won’t be able to speak to any of them. They’re all still in Africa. I came back early because I couldn’t bear to go any longer without speaking to Alice and making things right between us.”

And just like that, the last loophole in the story slammed shut. Kurt couldn’t help but wonder how long Shepherd had had this backup plan in place in case she needed to overtly contact Jane. “Write down their names anyway. While you’re doing that, I’ll go get your sister.”

He stood and started toward the door, but before he had taken three steps, Jane burst into the room, followed closely by Patterson. “I’m sorry, Weller,” she apologized. “I tried to keep her in your office like you asked, but I . . .” She trailed off as she realized no one was paying attention to her.

Kurt couldn’t take his eyes off the reunion playing out before him. Roman had sprung up with a choked cry of “Alice” as he caught sight of his sister, and her eyes were alight with wonder as they landed on him. He instantly pulled her into a hug, and she awkwardly returned the embrace, patting his back as he cupped her head to his shoulder and murmured something into her ear too low for the rest of them to hear.

Jane’s eyes were damp as she drew back enough to study Roman. “You’re . . . my brother?”

“Yeah,” Roman told her. “I am. I know you don’t remember me, but . . . I’m Ian. And you’re Alice.”

“Alice.” Jane said the name slowly. “I’m so used to _Jane_ that it sounds strange.”

“I’ll call you whatever you want,” Roman offered as he wiped tear tracks from her cheeks. “I’m just so relieved that you’re safe, and I’ve found you again.”

The two of them smiled at one another until Zapata cleared her throat, and the moment was broken. Jane stepped back and Kurt moved to her side, wrapping an arm around her waist. Roman raised an eyebrow at the action. “When you said you and my sister were close, I didn’t realize you meant you were sleeping together.”

Kurt stiffened, and Jane put a hand on his arm. “It’s okay. I’ve got this. Ian . . . Kurt and I aren’t just sleeping together. We’re in love and engaged to be married. And . . .” She placed her hands over her stomach just as she had done the first time she shared this news. “We’re expecting our first child.”

Roman clenched his fist, and Jane moved between the two men, hoping to avert a fistfight. The last thing she needed was for her brother to get arrested, and her fiancé to show up at their wedding with a black eye. “I know this must come as a shock to you, but I’m really happy, Ian. And I think once you get to know Kurt, you’ll be happy for me as well.”

“Why don’t the three of us go to my office and discuss this?” Kurt suggested. This wasn’t really a subject he cared to discuss in front of the team. They were already privy to far too many details of his personal life.

“I think that would be best,” Roman agreed. He led the way out of the conference room and followed Weller and Remi to his office. Weller kept his arm firmly around his sister as they walked and pulled out a chair for her at the table before taking the seat next to her. “So, _Director_ Weller,” he said, taking the offensive, “do you make a habit of sleeping with victims that are trusting you to get justice for them, or is Alice the first?”

“Ian!” Jane expostulated, half-rising from her seat, her eyes blazing, but Kurt laid a hand on her arm to keep her in place.

“No, it’s okay, sweetheart. It’s a fair question.” He met Roman’s eyes squarely. “One I’ll answer once and only once, so listen closely. Your sister is the first and _last_ person I’ve come into contact with through my work that I’ve gotten into a relationship with, and she’s the _only_ woman I intend to ever sleep with again. And I don’t see her as a victim. She’s strong and capable and resilient, and my equal in every way. She’s my partner, and my best friend, and the love of my life, and I intend to devote the rest of mine to making her happy. Is that clear enough for you?”

Roman held his gaze for a long moment, and whatever he saw there must have satisfied him, because he gave a slow nod. “Good,” Kurt said. “Because Jane and I have been hoping to get married as soon as possible, and I’m sure she’d love to have you walk her down the aisle. We need her birth certificate to apply for a marriage license. Would you happen to know where it is?”

Roman nodded again. “Alice always kept her important papers in a lockbox in her closet. It was one of the first things she made sure to take when she moved in with Oscar—your former fiancé,” he explained as Remi looked at him curiously. “I know you don’t remember him . . .”

“Actually, I think I do,” Jane said. “Unless I was engaged more than once. Kurt and I were on an undercover mission as husband and wife last year, and wearing the wedding band triggered memories of my engagement ring. And I remember . . .” She hesitated. “I remember giving it back to him. Do you know why I called off the engagement?”

“No,” Roman told her. “I don’t.” He gave her an abbreviated version of the story he had already shared with Weller, adding, “But given the timeline Kurt has shared with me, I think it’s safe to say that was the only other time you were engaged.”

“Well, this time I’m definitely making it down the aisle,” Jane said, sharing a tender smile with Kurt.

“Yes, you are,” he assured her. “As soon as we can find that birth certificate. Actually, I should probably send a forensics team to check out that apartment. I’ll need that address and the key to the place.”

Roman quickly provided him with both. “I’m sure you’ll find it there. Alice—Jane,” he amended, noticing how she flinched every time he called her by her given name, “is a creature of habit. And here . . .” He rattled off his cell phone number as well. “I know you’ll need time to verify the DNA and check my story, so give me a call when that’s done. And since I'm sure you’ll have agents tailing me until then, would you mind having them give me a lift back to my hotel? It will save me cab fare.”

 _Cheeky bastard,_ Kurt thought in amusement as he acquiesced. It wasn’t as if Roman would lead them back to Sandstorm anyway. He was far too skilled an operative not to evade a simple tail. “Reade and Zapata will be happy to drive you anywhere you want to go.”

 _We will?_ said the look Zapata shot him when he gave her the news, but she followed Roman and Reade to the elevator without comment. Kurt quickly assigned several other agents to follow them, but he noticed his fiancée frowning at him as they returned to his office.

“Why didn’t you wake me to tell me Roman was here?” Jane demanded.

“I considered it,” Kurt told her. “But I thought it would be more believable to Sandstorm if I waited to bring you in until I heard what Ian had to say. You’re not only a valuable FBI asset, you’re my soon-to-be wife and the mother of my unborn child, remember? So I need to be triply protective.” Not just with Sandstorm, but with anyone—or anything—that threatened her. “Besides, this gave me a chance to get a sense of your brother without you there to influence the results.”

That stung. “I would never do that,” Jane retorted. “I’m completely loyal to you—”

“I know,” Kurt cut her off. “And I wasn’t suggesting otherwise. But like it or not, Ian did behave differently when you were in the room than when he was alone with us. It’s clear that he loves you very much—”

“Which is why I can turn him into an asset,” Jane cut in.

“But he hates all of us in equal measure,” Kurt finished as though she hadn’t spoken. “I’m not sure if it’s a generalized hatred against the FBI, or if it’s more personal—” though in his case, he definitely suspected the latter, “—but it makes trying to turn him into an asset a risk I can’t support. I’m sorry, Jane. I _wish_ more than anything that I could, but even if the decision was up to me rather than Nas, there’s just too much at stake here to risk it. Not just you and our child, but hundreds, perhaps thousands, of innocent lives.”

Jane’s shoulders slumped as she looked away, her eyes flooding with tears. She’d been so hoping . . . “I know,” she admitted. “I know there’s a lot riding on this, Kurt. But—”

“Hey.” Kurt’s own eyes were damped as he placed a finger under her chin and forced her to look at him. “It’s not that I don’t want to help, Jane. It’s just . . . I don’t know how. But I’ll keep thinking on it. I promise.” She moved into his arms, and he hugged her fiercely. “Now . . . what do you say we go get Patterson to round up a forensic team, and you and me will go with them to check the place out?”

“That sounds good,” Jane said with a watery smile. “I am so ready to call you _husband.”_

“And I can’t wait to make you my wife,” Kurt returned, relieved that they continued to be able to navigate this obstacle in their relationship so well. He knew it would have been a deal breaker for most couples, and he was in awe of the strength Jane was showing and the trust she was placing in him.

They found the birth certificate exactly where Roman said it would be, though there was nothing else of any forensic value in the apartment. The place definitely had a lived-in feel to it, but it appeared eerily frozen in time, as if the owners had just gone out one day and never returned. Which, Kurt supposed, was exactly what had happened. Or at least what Shepherd wanted them to believe had happened. He couldn’t help but wonder how long she’d had this backup plan in place.

They applied for their marriage license the day after Roman’s visit, and were married six days later. The “aisle” Roman walked her down was really just a makeshift path between their guests at the Manhattan Marriage Bureau, but to Jane it felt like the fanciest of cathedrals. She was on cloud nine, and she knew she’d remember the look on Kurt’s face as he caught sight of her in her long sleeve lace wedding gown for the rest of her life. Her own gaze raked appreciatively over him at her first glimpse of him in his tux as well.

There was no hesitation in either her or Kurt’s voice as they recited their vows. His lips were on hers almost as soon as the officiant said, “You may kiss the bride,” and they shared a tender, lingering kiss that brought rosy color to Jane’s cheeks as they turned to face their cheering well-wishers.

Sarah was the first to greet them, and she hugged Jane fiercely. “I’m so glad I finally have a sister. Welcome to the family, Mrs. Weller.”

Jane managed to choke out a thank you that didn’t even begin to cover the depths of gratitude for all Sarah was coming to mean to her, and then the team swarmed around them, offering their congratulations as well. Even Zapata seemed willing to put aside their differences today to celebrate the occasion, and if the hug she gave Jane was a bit awkward, everyone was too caught up in the joy of the moment to notice.

Unbeknownst to Jane or Kurt, the team had rented a limo for the occasion, and they all piled in and rode to the restaurant that was hosting their reception. A number of off-duty FBI agents and friends of Kurt’s joined them there, and Jane was inundated with an equal number of well-wishes and teasing queries as to what made her settle for this guy.

They opened presents, and fed each other cake, and laughed and talked with their guests until Kurt invited teasing jeers by announcing it was time to take his bride home. They climbed back into the limo, and were promptly so engrossed in one another that the driver had to clear his throat three times before they realized they were home.

Kurt held her hand as they rode the elevator up to their floor, but he stopped her when she would have opened the door and entered their apartment, sweeping her up in his arms instead. “It’s tradition for a man to carry his new bride across the threshold,” he told her when she looked at him questioningly.

He turned her so that she could shut the door behind them, but he didn’t let her down, carrying her down the hall and over the threshold of their bedroom as well, so that they could share another important milestone together.

It was an idyllic end to a wonderful day, the perfect start to their married life.

But the storm was fast approaching.


	11. Chapter 11

_One week later_

Jane hummed contentedly as she awoke and instinctively reached out to her husband, but her smile faded as she was met by cold, empty sheets for the first time in their marriage. Kurt had had to go into work early today, she recalled. He’d done his best to get out of it, but Borden had been insistent that he meet with him for a therapy session before work.

She sighed as she got out of bed, already missing the peaceful idyll of the past week, and showered and dressed quickly. Her smile returned as she strolled into the kitchen in search of breakfast and found one of Kurt’s leftover homemade cinnamon rolls on the counter, along with a note instructing her to be sure she ate before coming in.

She heated the roll in the microwave and was about to do just that when a knock sounded on the door. “Roman!” she exclaimed happily as she opened the door to find her brother standing there studying her intently. “I wasn’t expecting you. Is everything okay?”

Roman pushed past her into the apartment. “Everything’s fine. I just haven’t seen you since the wedding, and I’ve missed you, Remi. I thought we could go for a drive.”

“Oh, I, uh . . .” Jane wasn’t sure how to respond. “I don’t think I ca—”

“It wasn’t a request.” Roman placed a hand under her elbow and steered her out of the apartment.

“Wait,” Jane said, desperate to buy herself some time to find a way out of this situation. “I need to call Kurt before we go. He’s expecting me at work, and he’ll worry if I don’t show up.”

“Let him,” Roman said brusquely. “You’re not coming back, Remi. Your work here is done. In a few hours we’re going to launch Phase Two. We’re going to change the world.”

 _Not come back? Not come back to Kurt?_ Jane went numb at the very thought, and she allowed Roman to lead her outside without any further resistance and place the now all-too-familiar black bag over her head before getting underway. Her heart sank with every mile that increased between her and Kurt, but she forced herself to focus her other senses on what she could glean during the drive. Once she found out what Sandstorm was planning, she would find a way to contact him, and she needed to have something for him to pinpoint her location when she did.

Roman took a much more direct route to the compound this time, helping her cause, and Jane blinked in surprise when he pulled the bag off her head as soon as she was out of the car. “What’s wrong?” he asked as she looked around. “You seem nervous.”

 _Terrified_ would be a better description of what she felt as she looked around and saw Shepherd’s followers gearing up for their coming attack. “You never take the bag off until we get inside,” Jane pointed out as she followed him in there, taking note of a water tower in the distance. “And you took us a different route this time.”

Roman’s expression was inscrutable. “I figured we could dispense with the formalities, now that you’re not going back to the FBI. Twelve hours from now, this will all be over.”

 _Over for whom?_ Jane wondered. She was beginning to think it would never really be over for her, no matter which way things turned out today. She only prayed she could live with whatever choices she was forced to make.

Roman led her to the bedroom she had stayed in previously, tersely ordering her to stay put while he stepped out to attend to some business, and she took advantage of his brief distraction to pocket the cell phone she had noticed in his hiding spot beneath the floorboard last time she was here.

“Shepherd wants to see you,” he informed her when he returned, and Jane followed him without comment.

“Well,” Shepherd greeted as they entered her office. “Ready for this?”

“How would I know if I’m ready when I still don’t know what we’re doing?” Jane shot back.

Shepherd smiled slightly as she rolled up the papers she had been studying and locked them in the file cabinet, but a man interrupted them before she could answer. “There’s a problem in the armory,” he told her.

Shepherd and Roman exchanged glances before leaving her alone once more. The moment they were gone, Jane leapt into action. She unlocked the file cabinet with a paperclip and spread the papers out in front of her, taking pictures of them to send to Patterson before she dialed Kurt’s number.

It seemed to take forever for the call to go through, and her hands shook as she waited, aware that if Shepherd or Roman walked back in on her, it would be game over not just for her, but their child as well. “Kurt.” She breathed a sigh of relief when he finally answered. “I—”

“Morning, sweetheart,” Kurt greeted warmly. “I was just thinking about you.” He lowered his voice. “And last night. I hope I didn’t wear you out too much. You’re awfully late today. Have you ea—”

“Sandstorm is launching Phase Two today,” Jane interrupted. “I don’t have much time, but—”

“Right,” Kurt said, his blood chilling to ice as he raced out into the bullpen to alert the others. “Jane. Where are you right now?”

“I’m in Shepherd’s office,” Jane whispered as loudly as she dared. “I just sent some photos to Patterson. Look, I think I can help you find the compound. Roman let me see the grounds this time.”

Alarm bells went off in Kurt’s head. “Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know,” Jane responded impatiently. She had wondered that herself, but there were more pressing matters at hand. “Maybe it’s a play, or maybe he wanted me to see them, but . . . he said I’m not going back to the FBI.” _I’m not going back to you,_ she amended silently. “Not ever.”

“Oh yes, you will,” Kurt said fiercely. “Jane . . . listen to me.” He searched desperately for the right words to reassure her. To reassure _both_ of them.

“There’s a water tower in the distance,” Jane continued, forcing herself to put the facts ahead of sentimentality, before going on to describe the rest of what she had observed. Hopefully, it would be enough for the team to pinpoint her location. “Roman said that it will all be over in twelve hours. If I don’t make it back, Kurt, I want you to know—”

“Don’t,” Kurt said desperately as he took the phone back off speaker and held it up to his ear. “We’re coming for you, Jane, I promise. _I’m_ coming for you. Your brother’s right. This will be over. We’re going to shut down Sandstorm for good. In twelve hours, you’ll be back in my arms.”

God, she hoped so. Jane closed her eyes briefly, relishing the lifeline his voice offered her, the love she heard beneath the fear. And then other voices sounded. “I have to go. I love you, Kurt.” She hung up, praying those wouldn’t be the last words she ever said to him.

But so thankful she’d had the opportunity to tell him so if it were.

xxx

Kurt ordered tactical teams to begin gearing up the moment Jane hung up on him and then escaped to the privacy of his office. He took a seat at the table, shoulders slumped, head bowed into his hands as he struggled to come to grips with what was about to happen. What _had_ to happen.

He didn’t look up when he heard the door open a few minutes later, knowing instinctively who it was. There was only one person who would invade his sanctuary at a time like this.

“Kurt?” Nas said softly as she approached. “Patterson’s got a location. And we’ve figured out what Sandstorm is planning.” She explained about the power grids and the potentially catastrophic ramifications of them using the chip they had stolen. “We need to move. Now.”

Kurt looked up at her with damp eyes. “She told me she loved me. Jane,” he continued when she didn’t say anything. “It was the last thing she said before she hung up. Even knowing that . . .” He sucked in a breath. “How am I supposed to do this, Nas? How am I supposed to order an assault on that compound, knowing it could very well result in the deaths of my wife and unborn child?”

Nas sighed as she took the seat across from him. “I wish I had an answer for you, Kurt, but nothing about this is easy—or fair. I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now, but that’s all the more reason that Sandstorm has to be stopped. As long as they’re out there, you and Jane and your child will never truly be free, and we _can’t_ let them hurt any more innocent people.”

Kurt blinked at Nas’s vehemence. She’d hinted at Sandstorm’s impact on her life, but she’d never really divulged the specifics of what happened. “The way they did you?” he asked quietly. “What happened, Nas?”

The corners of Nas’s mouth tipped up in a humorless smile. “I’ll tell you if you really want to know, but this is probably not the best time for that discussion.”

“I don’t care,” Kurt insisted. “I need to know exactly what we’re up against.”

Nas sucked in a breath. “I got played,” she admitted. “Both personally and professionally. Kurt, I . . . I was sleeping with the mole. I was in love with him, or at least the person I thought he was.”

“I know how that feels,” Kurt interjected.

“I know you do.” Nas’s eyes were dry as she met his gaze, but there was profound sadness in them. “But at least the person you fell in love with turned out to be _exactly_ who you thought she was. Mine on the other hand . . .”

She looked down at her hands. “I’d always been so focused on my career that any romantic relationships ended badly, and then suddenly there he was, saying all the things I wanted to hear. I’d never dated a coworker before, but that seemed like a plus as well, since I didn’t have to keep secrets from him. I was . . . I was so caught up in the romance of it all that I missed all the warning signs that _he_ was keeping them from me. Right up until he stood me up for a lunch he had asked me to, and I walked back into the office to find he had gunned down all my colleagues on the Sandstorm investigation. One of them was still alive—barely—and she told me it was him.”

“I’m sorry,” Kurt said sincerely. “You deserved better, Nas.”

“Yeah, well . . .” Nas shrugged slightly. “Sandstorm poisons every life they touch, Kurt. It’s why I’m so determined to stop them. Whatever their objectives are, it doesn’t matter to them how many lives they have to take to succeed.”

“So let’s go take them down,” Kurt said, but just as he got to his feet, his phone rang. “Weller.”

“Kurt? It’s . . . it’s Ian.”

Kurt rocked back on his heels, stunned. Roman was the very _last_ person he had expected to hear from today. Or ever again. He pulled the phone away from his ear and glanced at the screen, his heart sinking as he saw where the call was originating from. “Why are you calling me from a hospital, Ian?”

“Sorry,” Roman apologized. “My . . . my phone died.”

“What happened?” Kurt demanded. It had been nearly an hour since he had spoken to Jane, but Roman had been with her then. Which meant . . .

“We were in a car accident,” Roman told him. “Another driver ran a red light and hit us. I got banged up a little, but Jane . . . it’s not good. She was asking for you before she . . . They’re doing what they can, but . . . Obviously, you’re her emergency contact. As her husband and the . . . father of her child, there are some decisions that are going to need to be made. You need to get down here. Kurt . . .”

“I’m coming,” Kurt said as he hung up the phone, reeling from the news and all the unanswered questions it raised. Why the hell had Jane and Roman been on the road, and where had they been headed? Was Sandstorm on the move?

“What is it?” Nas asked.

“Jane’s, uh . . . she’s been in a car accident.” It was all Kurt could do to force those words past numb lips. “I have to go.”

Nas laid a hand on his arm to stop him from charging out the door as her past and the present merged in her mind with stunning clarity. “No, she hasn’t. It’s a trap, Kurt,” she said as he looked at her, uncomprehending. “Don’t you see? Sandstorm lured me away from my office for some reason when they killed my colleagues, and they’re doing the same with you now.”

Kurt swallowed hard, her words bringing on an even more chilling fear. “But that means . . . Nas, if you’re right, the only reason they would do that now is to keep me from leading the raid on their compound. Which means they know we’re coming. They know Jane’s loyalties are with us.” Which virtually guaranteed her a short life expectancy if they didn’t get there soon. He refused to consider the possibility that she could already be dead.

“It means more than that,” Nas pointed out. “If they’re certain enough Jane’s loyalties are no longer with them to set a trap for us, then they must have a mole in this office as well, someone close enough to the team to have ascertained that. We need to find that person and . . .”

“You find them,” Kurt said as he started for the door once more. “I’m going to get Jane back.” If Sandstorm didn’t want him at their compound, then that was exactly where he was heading. “Keep me in the loop.”

“I will,” Nas said, already running through the short list of potential traitors and coming up with one very likely suspect based on Weller’s grumbling this morning. “Be careful, Kurt. And good luck.”

“You too,” Kurt said as he slipped out the door and headed off to rescue his wife.

He wouldn’t draw an easy breath until she was in his arms again, and _he_ could tell _her_ that he loved her.

xxx

Roman had drugged her.

Jane groaned at the pounding in her head as she came back to consciousness, and memory came flooding back with a vengeance. She remembered sitting in that bedroom with him, reminiscing with him over one of the few good memories of their childhood, before her vision started to swim. He had laid her back on the bed, his face swimming over her as she fought desperately to stay conscious for Kurt and . . .

 _Oh god. The baby_. She straightened, stiffening when she realized she was tied to the chair she was sitting in. How long had she been out? And what had happened to . . .?

“Hello, _Jane_ ,” Shepherd greeted from behind her.

The tone of voice sent chills down her spine, but it was nothing compared to the cold ball of fear gripping her heart. “Is my baby all right?” she demanded. “What is this? What are you doing?”

“Your baby’s fine,” Shepherd told her, allowing her a brief moment of relief before adding, “For now.” She paused to let that sink in. “The real question is, What have _you_ been doing?”

“Let me go.” Jane swiveled her head around and saw her brother sitting behind her with his head bowed. “Roman—”

“Your brother can’t help you now,” Shepherd told her. “We know that you’ve been lying to us, that you’ve been working for the FBI this whole time. There are going to be consequences for that betrayal.”

“Consequences?” Jane repeated numbly before gathering herself. “Are you _insane?_ You sent me there. I’ve been working for _you._ Roman, tell her—”

“Stop,” Roman commanded, refusing to meet his sister’s eyes. “You’re only going to make it worse.”

Jane had never felt more alone than she did in that moment, not even when she woke up naked in Times Square. “I don’t know what you think you know—”

“We don’t _think_ anything.” Shepherd’s smile was coldly victorious as she read the desperation in Jane’s eyes. She knelt down in front of her. “You’re not the only one who can infiltrate the FBI. Did you really think Oscar was your only handler? That we didn’t ensure other means of keeping tabs on you? Your loyalties?” She paused for dramatic effect. “Your _psychology?”_

Jane shook her head as the truth began to dawn on her. As memories of conversations she’d had with Borden took on a new and darker meaning.

“It was right in front of you,” Shepherd said triumphantly.

“I don’t believe you,” Jane countered desperately, even as the truth took root in her heart. The very idea that a man she had trusted with her most intimate feelings—that the _team_ still trusted—had been betraying their confidences to the enemy all along . . .

“It doesn’t matter what you believe,” Shepherd retorted. “Dr. Borden is one of us.”

“When did you know?” Jane asked. “That I’d crossed to the other side?” She listened in numb silence as Shepherd detailed the inconsistencies that had exposed her true loyalties. “So you knew from the beginning.”

“Oh, I wanted to kill you weeks ago,” Shepherd snapped viciously in Jane’s ear. “But your brother insisted he could turn you back. Turns out . . . he was wrong.” She straightened up. “I have to say, though . . . I was impressed with the lengths you took to sell your cover. Pretending to sleep with Weller and get pregnant with his child simply to further our mission . . . that’s something the old Remi would have done. Perhaps there’s still something of her left in you after all.”

“Of course there is,” Roman spoke up. “Like I told you, Shepherd, my sister is still in there. She just needs to be free of Weller’s influence.”

 _Free from Weller’s influence?_ Jane wondered with mounting dread. _What the hell did that mean? What the hell did they have planned for her? Whatever it was, she wouldn’t give in easily. She wouldn’t go down without a fight._

“Yes, well, we’ll see.” Shepherd studied Jane, noting the defiance in her eyes. “Hold that thought. There’s something I want you to see.” She strode out of the room.

“Roman,” Jane said once Shepherd was gone, turning toward her brother once more. “Roman! You can’t let her do this. You and I are blood. This child I’m carrying is your niece or nephew. I love my baby just as much as our parents, our _real_ parents, loved us. They died trying to make the world a better place for us, to save people, not harm them. What Shepherd is doing goes against _everything_ they stood for. Don’t let their sacrifice be in vain. Please . . . help me stop her.”

Roman got up and slowly walked over to his sister. “I believed in you. I _fought_ for you. And all I got back were lies and betrayal. It’s over . . . Jane.”

Tears sprang to Jane’s eyes as her brother disavowed her, but the heartbreak in his voice gave her hope that she could still reach him. She was just opening her mouth to respond when Shepherd returned. “I thought you might be missing your friends,” she greeted as she set up the projector. “Let’s see what they’re doing, shall we?”

Jane’s breath caught in her throat as the images flashed on the wall. “What is this?” she asked desperately, unable to tear her eyes away as agents converged on a building that was all too familiar.

Shepherd watched for a moment before turning back to Jane. “Did you really think we’d let you call them if we didn’t want you to?”

“No,” Jane groaned as the horrible truth began to dawn on her. She yanked at her restraints as the team entered the house. “Kurt . . .”

Shepherd whirled at the agony in her voice, stunned to see Weller there. “You told me Weller was on his way to the hospital to be with Jane,” she hissed at Roman.

“That’s what he told me,” Roman shot back. He looked at Jane. “We told him you’d been in a bad car accident, and he needed to get to the hospital right away. I guess he doesn’t care for you as much as you thought.”

“Or he’s smarter than you thought,” Jane fired back. She had no doubts of his feelings for her. “He saw through your little trap.”

“Perhaps,” Shepherd agreed, “but it really doesn’t matter. We have contingency plans in place for any eventuality.” Her smile grew triumphant as she looked at Jane. “I want to thank you for playing your part so perfectly. We couldn’t have done this without you.”

“Done _what?”_ Jane asked in dawning horror.

“Phase Two isn’t actually finished today,” Shepherd told her. “But your husband and team are. And you’re going to watch.” She turned back to the screen and waited for the opportune moment before pressing the button in her hand.

“No!” Jane screamed as an explosion rocked the compound before the screen went dark. She yanked at her bonds as if she could somehow free herself and get to them, _save_ them. Tears filled her eyes as an agony more intense than she had ever known flooded through her as her mind struggled to process the awful truth.

She had led her team into a trap, and now they were dead. _Kurt_ was dead.

And she wished more than anything that she had died right alongside him.

xxx

If Jane had been in that house, she was dead. Kurt leaned against his SUV and cast his gaze over the blazing rubble once more, hope warring with despair inside him as he took in the awful scene. Sandstorm had triggered the explosion only moments after they had entered, sparing he and his team certain death, but obliterating anything—and _anyone_ —further inside. Including several of his agents.

And in the hours since, no one had heard from Jane. He glanced down at the phone clenched tightly in his hand, willing her to call, but the screen remained stubbornly black. He was no fool. Every second that ticked by without hearing her beloved voice made it less and less likely that he would do so, that he would ever again hold her or make love to her or watch her stomach swell with their child. Sandstorm had robbed him of that future in an instant.

Kurt dropped to his knees and wept as the agony finally became too much for him to bear.


	12. Chapter 12

She hadn’t heard from any member of the team since they’d left, and Patterson was quickly going out of her mind with worry. She paced back and forth in her lab, periodically calling out their names over the comms without any response, before finally going in search of someone who would answer her.

Her boyfriend had his back to her when she slipped into his office. “It’s not a problem. We had contingency plans in place for this eventuality, and the plan is proceeding on schedule. Everything will be fine, you’ll see.”

She must have made some small noise, because Robert whirled to face her, and her breath caught in her throat at the impassive expression on his face as he regarded her. It was a far cry from the tenderhearted lover who had made her breakfast in bed just this morning, and a terrible suspicion began to take root in her mind. “Who . . . who were you talking to?”

“You’re too smart to need that question answered,” Borden answered gently. “Patterson . . .”

He reached for her, but she took a swift step back as the pain of his betrayal lanced through her. “You were talking to Shepherd. You’re a mole for Sandstorm.” _Oh god._ She’d shared her most personal struggles over the loss of David with a man who had essentially put the knife to his throat. She’d shared her _body_ with him.

“How could you?” she demanded. “Did you ever care for me—for any of us—at all? Or was it always just a ploy to . . .” She read the answer in his face, and her voice grew thick with tears. “Of all the low-down, cowardly—”

“Low-down? Cowardly?” Borden laughed bitterly. “What about the wholesale slaughter of innocents by the government you’ve sworn your life to defend? Talk to me after you’ve witnessed firsthand everyone you loved wiped out in an instant.” He cocked his head as he studied her. “Although after today, I guess you’ll have a better idea how that feels.”

Patterson felt the chill inside her seep into her very bones. “What do you mean? Is the team all right? Is _Jane?”_ Surely the man she had known—the man she had _loved_ —wasn’t so far gone as to have . . .

“The team’s dead,” Borden said harshly. “And if Jane’s not, she soon will be. Roman will see to that. That’s the price of betrayal.”

“Betrayal,” Nas said from the doorway. “That’s an interesting word for you to use, Dr. Borden—or whoever the hell you are. Because from where I’m standing, _you’re_ the traitor.” She leveled her gun at him. “And you’re under arrest. Here.” She tossed her cuffs to Patterson. “I think you’ve earned the right to do the honors.”

Patterson shot Nas a grateful look as she stepped behind the man she’d been envisioning a future with mere hours earlier. “Robert Borden,” she said in as steely a voice as she could muster, “you are under arrest for terrorism and murder and . . . and being a genuinely rotten human being.” Her voice broke. “And if I could arrest you for being a lying asshole and breaking my heart, I’d charge you with that too.”

She slapped the cuffs on him and marched him down the hall to an interrogation room, ignoring the curious stares of the agents they passed. Fortunately, Nas’s stern glare kept their questions at bay. She felt shaky from the combined anger and heartache, and she was afraid one wrong word would cause her to erupt—or dissolve into a puddle of tears.

She cuffed Borden to the table and exited the room without a word, storming to the end of the hallway before slowly coming to a halt and leaning against the wall, seething with so many emotions she didn’t know how to even begin processing them—or what to do next. “How did I miss this?” she asked as Nas came up beside her. “Figuring out puzzles is what I do, dammit! How did I not see that he was just using me to . . .” She ground to a halt as her voice became suspended by tears.

“Sometimes . . . sometimes our hearts can blind us to what our heads think,” Nas said gently. “Or our eyes see. This is not your fault, Patterson.”

Patterson shook her head as her grief threatened to overwhelm her. “Borden said the team is dead. And I haven’t been able to reach any of them in over an hour.”

“That doesn’t mean they’re dead,” Nas said with far more confidence than she felt. “Our team knew they might be walking into a trap, and they’re the best at what they do. You can’t give up hope, Patterson.”

“Yeah.” Patterson blew out a breath. “But Jane didn’t know. She trusted me, and I served her up to Shepherd on a silver platter. And now because of me, she and her baby might be . . .” She couldn’t bring herself to say the word _dead._ Couldn’t bear to think of the ramifications if that were the case.

“No, you didn’t,” Nas said sharply. “This isn’t on you, Patterson, no matter what happens. If anything, it’s my fault. Sandstorm would have had their suspicions about Jane before she ever went undercover, but I forced her into it. I knew firsthand how dangerous these people could be, but I never once seriously considered pulling her out when she got pregnant. So if she doesn’t make it . . .” Her voice cracked. “If she doesn’t make it, that’s entirely on me.”

Patterson said nothing. If Jane didn’t make it, there was going to be more than enough blame to go around. The team—and Weller—would never survive her loss. She’d gone from stranger to friend to traitor to the heart and soul of their team. Their _family._

“Come on,” Nas said, forcing a positive note into her voice. “Let’s go try to get ahold of the others again.”

They headed out into the bullpen, but before they could call anyone, the elevator doors slid open, and Weller emerged. Patterson let out a choked cry as she launched herself toward him. He was dirty and bruised and bloody, but he was alive and whole and _here._ “Where are Tasha and Reade?” she asked anxiously when she drew back. “Are they—”

“They’re fine,” Kurt reassured her. “Shepherd blew the compound before we could search it, so they’re staying there in case . . . Until we recover the bodies of the six agents who died,” he amended. He refused to believe that Jane would be the seventh, despite Reade’s and Zapata’s skepticism. Surely he would know if the love of his life had died. He would _feel_ it.

“Any word from Jane?” he asked hopefully as he glanced from Patterson to Nas. “Did you figure out who the mole is?”

“Yes,” Nas said. Patterson let out a choked cry, and he hugged her back to his side. “Weller . . . it’s Borden.”

“Borden?” Kurt’s blood roared in his ears, and he was certain he must have misunderstood. One look at Patterson’s face as she stepped back and turned to face him, however, put that hope to flight. He let out an animalistic growl as it registered that the man he and Jane had trusted with their most intimate emotions—the man Patterson had entrusted her heart to—had been playing them the entire time. “Has he said anything about Jane?”

Nas and Patterson exchanged looks. “It’s . . . it’s not good, Kurt,” Nas told him gently. “According to Borden, Shepherd ordered Roman to kill her for betraying them. You didn’t find any sign of her at the compound?”

Kurt shook his head wearily. “No. The parts that were left standing were either still on fire or too unstable to search.”

“Borden also said all of you were dead,” Patterson said, buoyed by Kurt’s return and desperate to impart that hope to him. He was as somber as if he was at a wake, and the despair on his face wrung her heart. Not only was he having to contend with the possible death of his wife and unborn child, but he had lost colleagues and friends tonight. Agents that he had been responsible for and whose families he would have to notify. It was a heavier burden than any one man should have to bear. “But you’re not. So maybe . . .”

She took a deep breath as she hugged him again. “Jane’s smart, and tough, and she has so much to live for. If anyone could find a way out of this, it’s her. So let’s not write her off just yet, guys. She would _never_ give up on us.”

“You’re right,” Kurt agreed, scrubbing a hand over his face as her words bolstered the tenuous hope that Borden’s bombshell had threatened to extinguish. Just because Jane had called them from the compound didn’t mean she had still been inside when Shepherd had blown it up. In fact, if Shepherd wanted Roman to kill her, it was likely that she _hadn’t_ been, since Roman had called him from a hospital in the opposite direction not long after he’d talked to Jane.

But there was one person who could tell them for sure.

Kurt’s hands balled into fists. “Where is Borden?”

“Interrogation,” Nas told him. “But, Kurt, you can’t just—” She was talking to empty air. Kurt had already crossed the bullpen, and his receding back was just visible as he started down the hallway. She exchanged worried glances with the others, and they all swiftly followed.

Kurt’s temper was boiling by the time he burst into the interrogation room. He barely registered Borden’s look of surprise as he uncuffed him and jerked him to his feet, pinning him to the wall with an arm across his windpipe. “Where. Is. My. Wife?” he growled.

Borden smirked at him, and he pressed harder. “I’m not going to ask again.”

“Dead,” Borden gasped out. “Just like you were supposed to be. But don’t worry, Director Weller, you’ll be joining her soon enough.”

Kurt’s blood was ringing in his ears as he shifted positions as swiftly as a striking snake and brought a hand up to Borden’s throat, intent on squeezing the life out of the man. As if through a fog, he heard Nas’s voice calling out to him, imploring him to stop, reminding him that he couldn’t help Jane or his child if he were arrested for murder.

He tightened his grip for one more second before stepping back and turning away, unable to bear the sight of a man he had considered a friend mere minutes ago. Nas was right, this wasn’t the way. Jane wouldn’t want him to sink to Borden’s level.

“What the hell happened to you?” Patterson asked Borden in disgust as she handcuffed him to the table once more. “How could you work alongside us for all this time, counsel us, befriend us, and then cold-bloodedly watch us march off to our deaths? Answer me!” she demanded when he refused to look at her, slamming her fist on the table. “Jane is _pregnant,_ Robert. You let her die, and you’ll not only be murdering an innocent woman, but her unborn baby as well.”

“Innocent?” Borden sneered. “Jane’s anything but. She helped us to plan this whole thing, before she switched sides. And now her allegiances are with the government who tried to kill her and murdered my wife—and an entire village of innocent people—for providing her medical care.”

“Your wife?” Patterson felt like she’d been punched in the gut once more at this latest revelation that Borden wasn’t the man she’d thought she’d known at all. “If you know what it’s like to lose the woman you love, then it’s even more important that you help Weller find Jane before it’s too late.”

“It’s already too late,” Borden said. “Jane’s dead.” He met Weller’s stony glare head on, and his attitude softened somewhat. “But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry for your loss.”

“It’s not worth anything,” Kurt retorted as he started toward the door. Not coming from the man who had so callously betrayed them. “And Jane _isn’t_ dead.” Patterson opened her mouth to try again, but he held up a hand to forestall her. They weren’t going to get anything out of Borden, not in time to save Jane at any rate. They would just have to put their heads together and come up with another lead.

They were racing against the clock, and time was running out.

xxx

Her husband was dead, and she wasn’t long for this world if she didn’t do something, but Jane couldn’t bring herself to care at the moment. She was too numb to even cry. She stared at the woman who had just upended her entire world—the woman who had called herself her _mother_ —as images of the explosion played on a repeating loop in her head. Kurt and the team had rushed inside with such determination, clearly desperate to save her, and then . . .

“Why?” she demanded in an agonized whisper as Shepherd met her eyes. “Why keep me alive? Why not just kill me with my team?” Why not let her die with the man she’d loved more than anything?

“Because,” Shepherd intoned coolly, “Roman’s going to kill you.”

Roman started. “ _What?”_

“I’ve lost one child already. I see the hold your sister has on you,” Shepherd told him as Jane stared at her in mounting horror. “You have to let that go.”

Roman leaped to his feet. “We lost her to them—to Weller—because _we_ erased her memory. It’s our fault this happened. But now that Weller’s out of the picture, we have a chance to get her back. We can—”

“We can what, persuade Jane to join our cause after we murdered the man she loved?” Shepherd scoffed, glancing pointedly at the hatred blazing in Jane’s eyes beneath the anguish. “Even if we could do that, she wouldn’t be your sister. Remi’s memories made her the person she was, and as much as it pains me to say it, she’s lost to us forever. Jane may look like your sister, but she’s _not._ It’s time to pick a side, Roman.” She held a gun out to him. “It’s time to kill your rabbit.”

Jane looked on in disbelief as Roman picked up the gun and stared down at it for a long moment before turning to her. _This was it,_ she realized. If she didn’t do something now, she was going to die. And not just her, but the baby Kurt had been so thrilled about. Her breath caught in her throat as a memory from just this morning—yesterday morning, she supposed now—washed over her.

_She was lulled out of a sound slumber by the sensation of lips kissing her belly, and she sleepily blinked open her eyes just as Kurt spoke. “Good morning, little princess. Daddy has to go to work now, but I’ll see you in a few hours, okay? Be safe. You and your mommy,” he added as he spotted Jane watching him and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Now go back to sleep, Mommy. My girls need their beauty rest.”_

_Be safe . . ._ The memory faded, but Kurt’s words cut through her anguish and reignited her fighting spirit. He’d given his life trying to save the two of them; she couldn’t just passively sit here and let that sacrifice be in vain. He would never have forgiven her for that, and she would never be able to live with herself if she lost the one thing she had left of him without a fight. “Roman,” she pleaded softly.

“Do it,” Shepherd ordered.

“Don’t do this,” Jane countered. “This isn’t you.”

“That’s not your sister, Roman,” Shepherd told him. “I don’t know who that is, but it’s time to say goodbye.”

“I _am_ your sister,” Jane responded. “And the baby I’m carrying is your niece or nephew. If you kill me, you’ll be killing an innocent child, just like the men at the orphanage killed innocents—and killed the innocence in both of us. Please, Roman . . .”

“Now!” Shepherd interrupted.

Roman’s teary gaze swung from one to another, and with an anguished cry, he turned the gun on Shepherd and pulled the trigger. He was stunned when the faint click signaled that the gun was unloaded.

Shepherd shook her head. “I’ve lost you both.” She met Roman’s teary gaze for a long moment. “So be it.”

She pulled a gun from her waistband, and Roman launched himself at her before she could fire, flipping them over a table as she pulled the trigger and sending the shot wild. The gun flew out of her hand as they landed, and she slashed his arm with the knife she had concealed in her boot.

Jane got to her feet as the two of them grappled and threw herself across the same table they had just flipped over, smashing the chair restraining her to bits to free herself. She rushed at Shepherd just in time to stop her from fatally stabbing an injured Roman and found herself facing that same knife, managing to knock it out of Shepherd’s hand just as her brother struggled to his feet.

The two of them faced off together against Shepherd, but she countered all their moves with ease and flung Roman out of the way before subduing Jane. Roman rolled toward the gun she had dropped earlier as Shepherd reached for her knife and shot her in the shoulder. He leaped to his feet and sighted the gun at Shepherd again, this time lining up for the kill.

“No!” Shepherd screamed as she read the intent in Roman’s eyes. “No! Roman . . .She’s using you. Look at me. Look at me, Roman. You kill me, and you kill the only person in this whole world who really loves you.”

Roman stared down at her in indecision, but noises outside made his choice for him. Jane rushed to his side as she heard Sandstorm’s soldiers approaching. “Roman! We have to go. Now!” She grabbed his arm, and he stumbled after her out into the black night.

They walked swiftly and in silence for quite some time before Jane was satisfied that they’d put enough distance between themselves and any members of Sandstorm that might still be chasing them. “We need to find a vehicle and get back to the FBI.”

“Why?” Roman asked. “There’s nothing for you to go back for. Your team’s gone. Weller—” He hesitated at the pained look that crossed her face. “Weller is dead, and whoever is in charge now may very well blame you for that. Why not just come away with me, and the two of us—the _three_ of us—can start over somewhere new.”

Jane sucked in a breath as her grief bubbled to the surface once more, and she found herself actually considering her brother’s suggestion. Pellington might very well blame her for the losses the FBI had suffered in today’s attack, and the thought of walking back into the NYO knowing that Kurt wouldn’t ever be there to greet her again . . .

“No.” She shook her head resolutely. “If I run, they’ll absolutely assume I was guilty. I won’t dishonor Kurt’s memory that way. I want our child to carry his name and hear all about him from people who loved him.” Maybe she would move out west to be closer to Sarah once the baby was born, if Roman was amenable to that. But first . . . “And I . . . I need to finish what Kurt and I started. I need you to help me stop Shepherd.”

Roman’s jaw clenched. “I can’t do that. Just because I saved you tonight doesn’t mean I don’t still agree with everything we’re trying to accomplish. If you go back to the FBI, I won’t be going with you, Jane. I won’t turn a blind eye to the corruption we’ve risked everything to stop.”

“Neither will I,” Jane shot back. “Or my—” She ground to a halt as she realized anew that she didn’t have a team any longer. “Or Patterson and Nas. Just give us the names of anyone who’s corrupt, and I guarantee you we won’t rest until we’ve brought them down. It’s more important to me than ever to do that now that I’m pregnant. I want to make this world a better place for my child, but there’s a right way and a wrong way to do that. I know you’ve been hurt, we both have, but murdering innocents in the pursuit of justice will only inflict that same pain on _their_ families.”

Roman hesitated, and she pressed her advantage. “You don’t have to decide now whether or not to give us the intel we need on Shepherd. All I’m asking is that you come back with me and keep an open mind this time when you meet Patterson and Nas. I think if you set aside your preconceived notions about them, you’ll find that we all want the same thing.”

“And if I go with you and I decide not to give up the information, I’ll what, be sent to the CIA to torture it out of me?” Roman asked sharply. He glanced at her as she paled. “That’s where you were those three months you were missing, wasn’t it? Weller—”

“Kurt tried to fight to keep me in FBI custody,” Jane defended. “But the CIA had paperwork ordering him to turn me over, and Pellington told him he didn’t have a choice.” Not that she had known that at the time. “The last thing he wanted was for me to be tortured.” He’d cried the night she’d had a nightmare, and he’d learned the details of her abuse at Keaton’s hands.

“Pellington,” Roman said cynically. “The same man who will decide my fate if I refuse to cooperate.” Jane started to speak, and he held up a hand. “Forget it. If there’s one thing we both know how to do, it’s withstand torture.”

“So you’ll come with me?” Jane asked hopefully and threw her arms around him when he nodded. She could feel his reluctance, but that was okay. He would come around; she was sure of it.

They commandeered a car that had been left in a bar parking lot after hours, reasonably certain it wouldn’t be missed for a while, and since traffic was almost nonexistent at this early hour of the morning, they arrived at the NYO in less than forty-five minutes.

Jane and Roman had no sooner entered the lobby than they were surrounded by agents with guns drawn who ordered them to their knees and roughly cuffed them. “Quite the welcome home,” Roman observed wryly to her as agents patted them down.

She hadn’t expected them to roll out the welcome mat after what had happened, but Jane was taken aback at being treated like a common criminal. “It’ll be okay,” she reassured Roman as they were ushered into the elevator, and it rose toward SIOC. This was just a misunderstanding. Nas would straighten everything out as soon as she found out they were here.

“Jane! Stop!” a familiar voice yelled as soon as they stepped off the elevator, and her knees nearly buckled as she looked up to see Kurt running toward her from his office. “What are you two doing?” he demanded to the agents escorting them.

“We picked her up in the lobby,” one of them answered nervously. “We were just following Pellington’s orders.”

“Get them off her,” Kurt commanded roughly, and his arms closed around her the moment the cuffs were removed.

Jane rested her head against his chest, certain that her subconscious had hallucinated Kurt to help her deal with returning here for the first time without him, but the reassuring beat of his heart soon convinced her that he was real. He was warm and solid and _alive,_ and she wept with relief as she hugged him back with all the love she’d thought she’d never get to show him again.

She was home.


	13. Chapter 13

The world around her faded as Jane clung to Kurt. She kept her ear pressed firmly to his chest so she could hear the beat of his heart as she ran her hands over his shoulders, his back, holding him to her as though she would never let him go, and he embraced her just as fiercely. “I thought . . . I thought you were dead,” she choked when she finally mustered the strength to draw back enough to see his face. His dear, dear face. “Shepherd made me watch the explosion, and I . . .”

“Oh, Jane.” Kurt pulled her back into the shelter of his arms and pressed his lips to her hair. “I know, honey. _I know._ My first thought when we made it out of the compound after the explosion was that you had been inside. But I’m here, and you are too.” He pulled back so he could see her face. “You are okay, right?”

“I’m fine,” Jane assured him. She took his hand and placed it on the tiny bump that had just begun to show. “ _We’re_ fine.” She glanced around, noticing the rest of the team standing nearby, and she rushed over to hug them. “I’m so glad you guys are okay,” she told them as she returned to the shelter of Kurt’s arms. “Borden—”

“We know he was a mole,” Patterson assured Jane. “Nas figured it out. I arrested him, and he’s in interrogation now.”

“We did lose six agents though,” Zapata said. “And quite a few more are in the hospital.” She cast Roman a hard look. “And we have you to thank for that.”

“No!” Jane blurted as Kurt stiffened, Zapata’s words recalling him to a sense of duty. “Shepherd was the one who blew up the compound. She ordered Roman to shoot me, but he turned the gun on her instead. I wouldn’t be here if not for him. He saved my life.”

“And I’m grateful for that,” Kurt said. “But—”

“Spare me your gratitude,” Roman said harshly. “I didn’t do it for you. It didn’t bother me one bit when I thought you were dead, considering you handed my sister over to be _tortured_. If it weren’t for her, I’d be doing my best to ensure you were dead for real.”

“Roman!” Jane expostulated as Reade and Zapata automatically shifted closer to Kurt, their hands going to their guns.

“Don’t worry about it, Jane.” Kurt eyed Roman coldly. “As I was about to say, Jane wouldn’t have been in that situation in the first place if not for you. You put her and our unborn child at risk, and I don’t know that I will ever be able to forgive you for that.”

“Kurt,” Jane pleaded. She ran her hands up his chest and across his shoulders, looping her arms around his neck, and his eyes softened as they met hers. “Roman didn’t just save my life. He came back here of his own free will to help us stop Shepherd.”

“Is that true?” Kurt asked. It was clear that Roman loved Jane as much as he despised him, but given his attitude toward the FBI on his previous visit, he couldn’t see him allying himself with them. Especially not against the only mother he had ever known.

Roman shifted uncomfortably, but his posture relaxed slightly as his gaze landed on his sister. “Re- _Jane_ convinced me to give you guys a chance. She said that there was another way to help this country, a _better_ way. But before I agree to give you any information on Shepherd, you’re going to have to prove that.”

Zapata saw red. “Really? You want us to prove _ourselves_ after you killed all those cops? Six men didn’t go home to their families that night, _Roman._ Six families are still grieving the loss of their loved ones, and you want to stand there and lecture us on right and wrong?”

“What about _my_ family?” Roman shot back angrily. “Jane is the only relative I have in the world, and I thought she was _dead_ for three months. I _couldn’t_ lose her again.” He took a step toward her. “I was just trying to protect my sister when those cops stopped us, you know. I was trying to get her to the hospital to save her life after _you_ shot her. I never . . .” He glanced away. “I never wanted anyone to get hurt. But I couldn’t let anyone take her from me again. I couldn’t . . .” He sucked in a breath. “Nobody hurts my family. _Nobody.”_

Tasha made a mental note to never criticize Jane in front of Roman. “For the record . . . I shot Jane because she asked me to. Well, Weller, really, but there was no way that was going to happen. Even when he was maddest at your sister, he still loved her.”

Roman gave a begrudging nod. No matter his personal feelings about Weller, there was no question of the man’s feelings for his sister. Or hers for him. His own feelings about their relationship were much more conflicted, but it was clear that if he wanted to have a place in her life going forward, he would have to find a way to make peace with the man she loved.

“So,” Zapata asked sarcastically, “how exactly do you expect us to ‘prove ourselves’ to you?”

Roman had been giving that a lot of thought. “I want you to look into Orion.”

“Orion?” Patterson was puzzled. “That was Carter’s pet project, and he’s dead. What do you want us to look into it for?”

“Carter may be dead, but he couldn’t have run Orion alone,” Roman pointed out. Shepherd had always been certain that Keaton had no knowledge of it, but he was no more convinced of the man’s integrity than he was Weller’s. If his sister was right and Shepherd’s plan was faulty, then who was to say her judgment of their character wasn’t equally suspect? “Whoever helped him not only hijacked your military for their own twisted agenda, but then they murdered them to cover their tracks. You say you’re willing to go after corruption? It doesn’t get any more corrupt than that. It’s a miracle Jane survived.”

Zapata eyed him cynically. “So is this about justice—or vengeance?” She would be damned if she would let some sociopath use them as his own personal police force to track down his enemies so he could exact revenge.

“Okay,” Nas said as Zapata and Roman glared at one another. “Let’s all just take a breath.” She took several before she continued. “We don’t have to make any decisions right now. It’s been a stressful twenty-four hours, and we could all use some rest, so why don’t we table this issue until tomorrow and go home? I’ll have some agents escort Roman to his cell.”

“Cell?” Jane stiffened as she looked from Nas to Kurt. Her heart sank at the expression on his face. “Kurt, you . . . you can’t be serious. Roman just saved my— _our_ —lives.”

“I know, Jane,” Kurt said quietly. “And I appreciate that, I do.” He cupped Jane’s stricken face tenderly. “My hands are tied right now. But if there is anythi—”

“Spare me,” Jane said harshly as she shrugged away from Kurt. “And there’s no need to have agents escort Roman to a cell. I’ll do it myself.” She wrapped an arm around Roman’s waist and walked away without a backwards glance.

It took Jane almost forty-five minutes to get Roman settled to the best of her ability, and when she returned, Kurt was sitting at his desk with his head in his hands, his shoulders slumped. She automatically started toward him until she remembered that she was mad at him. “I’m ready to go.”

The drive home was accomplished in near-silence, each of them glancing over when they thought the other wasn’t looking, but by the time they entered the apartment, Kurt was heartily sick of the silent treatment. “Talk to me, Jane,” he pleaded.

Jane whirled to face him. “How could you, Kurt? You know the kind of upbringing we had. Roman has been abused and brainwashed and manipulated, and despite all that, he stood up to Shepherd for me. For your _child._ And you repay him by locking him up like an animal?” Her eyes welled with tears, and she turned away. “How could you?”

“By your brother’s own admission, he’s a cop killer,” Kurt reminded her. He gently turned her to face him. “I’ll do everything I can for him, honey, but I can’t turn him loose on the public anytime soon. I know you’re angry at me, and that kills me, but I am so thankful that you’re alive to feel that way.” He pulled her into his arms and hugged her.

Jane felt her anger drain away at the pain in his eyes, and she melted into his embrace as she recalled the utter devastation she had felt when she’d thought she’d never feel his arms around her again. “I’m really happy you’re okay, too.”

They clung to one another for some time before Jane pulled back so she could see Kurt’s face, and she raised up on her tiptoes to press her lips to his. She poured her heart and soul into that kiss, wanting him to feel not only her undying love for him, but her sorrow at the hell he’d been through the past twenty-four hours, her penitence at being angry with him when he was doing his best to navigate the tightrope between his personal and professional lives.

“I need you, Jane,” Kurt gasped out when they broke the kiss.

“I’m right here,” Jane responded as she took his hand and led him to their bedroom. “And I’m not going anywhere. Not ever again.” She took Kurt’s left hand in hers, and rubbed the gold band she had placed on his finger just over a week ago. “For as long as we both shall live.”

Kurt kept his eyes locked on Jane’s as he tenderly reached up to cup her jaw, pulling her mouth to his oh so slowly. He thrilled at the anticipation in her eyes, the soft moan she couldn’t restrain, and he committed her every reaction to memory as they stripped away the barriers between them and joined together in perfect union once more.

Their lovemaking was so poignantly tender it brought tears to both their eyes, and they gasped out their love for one another as they crested that wave together. They fell asleep entangled spoon fashion, Kurt’s arm wrapped securely around Jane, and when she awoke in the morning, he was idly running his fingers over her slight baby bump.

“As much as I’d like to lay here all day, we really need to get going,” Kurt mentioned when the change in Jane’s breathing alerted him that she was awake. “I texted Nas and told her we’d be an hour or so late coming in this morning.

“I called Dr. Grant half an hour ago and asked if she could work you in this morning,” Kurt rushed on when Jane glanced at the clock in confusion. “I know that you said that you feel fine, but Shepherd did drug you, and I want—I _need_ to be sure that you’re okay. Dr. Grant said that she could see us at nine-fifteen.”

Jane nodded. “I guess I’d better get moving then.” She reached for his hand as they got out of bed. “Feel like washing my back?”

“Happy to,” Kurt said huskily. He didn’t think he’d be ready to let Jane out of his sight any oftener than he absolutely had to anytime soon.

They showered and dressed fairly quickly, and made it to Dr. Grant’s office with five minutes to spare. He had given Dr. Grant a carefully modified version of recent events, and Nurse Delano escorted them back to a treatment room as soon as Jane had signed in.

Nurse Delano had just finished taking her vitals when Dr. Grant bustled in. “I hear you’ve had an exciting few days,” she said to Jane. “Kurt said you were kidnapped and drugged. How are you feeling?”

“A little banged up, but I’ve had much worse.” Jane hesitated. “I had to fight to get free, but I didn’t take any blows to my stomach. Do you . . . do you think our baby’s all right? Could the drug have hurt it?”

“That’s what we’re here to find out, but I wouldn’t be too worried,” Dr. Grant reassured. “If you were going to miscarry from this, you would have already. Your vital signs are all good, and you’re gaining weight just as you ought to be. Lie back for me, and we’ll do a quick ultrasound just to be sure.”

Jane reached for Kurt’s hand as soon as she removed her shirt, gripping it tightly as Dr. Grant applied the cold gel. He brought his other hand up to cover hers, squeezing gently as they waited anxiously for the images to appear on the monitor.

“Here we go.” Dr. Grant clicked a few buttons on the keyboard, and the now-familiar sound of their baby’s heartbeat filled the room as they saw it on the monitor. Kurt and Jane alternated between staring at the monitor and glancing at the doctor as she swirled the wand this way and that across Jane’s abdomen.

Finally she clicked it off, apparently satisfied. “Everything’s looking good, mom and dad. I wouldn’t recommend any more adventures like you’ve just had, but there are no adverse effects that I can see this time. If no other problems arise, I’ll see you back here for your regular appointment in three weeks. You’ll be sixteen weeks at that point, so we should be able to tell the sex of your baby at the appointment after that.”

“Sounds good,” Kurt said as he shook Dr. Grant’s hand. “Thanks, Doc.” He gathered a visibly relieved Jane into his arms the moment the doctor exited and cuddled her close, covering her baby bump once more as they celebrated the new little life they had created. “Now that things are a little more . . . settled, I think it’s time we started planning a nursery, don’t you?”

“It’s one of the things I’ve been most looking forward to,” Jane admitted. “But I didn’t want to until I knew that . . . until I was done going undercover with Sandstorm. I just wish that Shepherd hadn’t gotten away. As long as she’s out there . . .”

“We’ll find her,” Kurt said with far more certainty than he felt. The idea that she could still be on the loose once their son or daughter was born wasn’t one he could stomach. “Why don’t we grab some breakfast and head on in to the office so you can check on Roman, then we’ll meet up with the team and discuss our next move.

Jane ate a hearty breakfast despite the concern for Roman that was once again at the forefront of her mind, and she ordered him a large plate of pancakes to go. “He meant what he said yesterday, you know,” she told Kurt as they drove to the office. “Roman’s stubborn. The only way he’ll help us take down Shepherd is if we expose the people behind Orion.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Kurt said with stubborn optimism. Jane shook her head slightly, and Kurt took her hand. “Don’t worry, honey. We _will_ figure this out.”

Jane felt her doubts recede in the face of Kurt’s unshakeable determination, and she was smiling as she approached Roman’s cell. “Good morning,” she greeted as she slid his breakfast through to him. “Did you sleep well?”

Roman glanced pointedly from Jane to the cot in the corner. “Not as well as you did, apparently. I thought you’d be here hours ago.”

“I’m sorry,” Jane apologized. “I was so tired that I slept late, and then Kurt took me to my obstetrician for a checkup.”

“Is the baby okay?” Roman asked in a much softer tone.

“The baby’s fine,” Jane smiled as her hands automatically came up to rest on her slightly rounded belly. She slid one of the photos Dr. Grant had just printed across to him. “That’s your niece or nephew.”

Roman picked up the picture and stared down at it for a long time, and Jane could have sworn there was a glint of tears in his eyes when he returned his gaze to her. “When will you know? If it’s a boy or girl?”

“Not for seven more weeks yet,” Jane told him. “There are tests they could do now, but Kurt and I talked it over and decided to wait. We’re going to start setting up the nursery in the meantime.”

Roman nodded, and Jane studied her brother, wincing at his dismal surroundings. “Is there anything I can get for you?” she asked gently. “Would you like something to read, or . . .”

“How about convincing that husband of yours to give me my freedom?” Roman said harshly. Jane’s face fell, and he sighed. “I’m sorry. I know you’re trying to help, but I can’t stand being cooped up in here. It . . . it reminds me too much of the little room they’d shove us in to punish us at the orphanage.”

Jane brought her hand up to the glass between them, wishing more than anything that she could touch her brother, hug him, and after a moment, Roman followed suit on the other side of the glass. “I know this is hard, Roman, and I promise you I’m working on it. I’m heading upstairs to meet with the team next. And believe it or not, Kurt is on your side as well. Just . . . just eat your breakfast and try to relax. And if there’s anything you can think of that you’d like me to bring you—”

“A sketch pad would be nice,” Roman offered. “And I suppose you could bring a couple books as well. I haven’t exactly had much time for reading for pleasure the past few years.” He glanced once more at the photo of her baby. “Can I . . . can I keep this?”

“Of course,” Jane said with a teary smile. “I have an extra sketch pad in my desk upstairs that I’ll send right down, and I’ll get you some books as soon as I can. Hang in there, Roman. I love you.”

She reluctantly pulled her hand from the glass and turned away, feeling his eyes on her until she was out of sight. She wiped her tears as she pressed the button for the elevator, her distress at seeing him in that cell being replaced by a fierce determination to do whatever it took to get him out of there.

The team was already seated in the conference room when she arrived—but they weren’t alone. “What is he doing here?” Jane snarled to Kurt as she locked eyes with Keaton.

“Jane Doe,” Keaton greeted. “Oh, sorry, it’s Jane _Weller_ now, isn’t it? Congratulations on your little bundle of joy, by the way.” His eyes drifted pointedly to her midsection, and Jane crossed her arms protectively. “I heard you brought in your brother last night, and I came to see if I could be of . . . assistance.”

“Relax, Jane,” Kurt said as her eyes flew to his. He moved to her side and placed his hands on her shoulders, rubbing reassuringly. “As I’ve just made clear to Keaton, Roman will be staying in our custody.” He led her to the chair beside his, grasping her hand under the table as they took their seats.

“But if you really want to be of assistance, you could tell us what you know about Orion,” Nas suggested pointedly. “Assuming you weren’t complicit in it, of course.”

“I had _nothing_ to do with that,” Keaton denied vehemently. “The first time I even heard of Orion was in case files I obtained from you after the MWA hostage situation.” He met their disbelieving gazes squarely. “Look, I know that the FBI and CIA have . . . ideological differences, but using the best and bravest of our military as a personal attack force and then murdering them to cover it up . . . that is something that I would _never_ be a part of.”

“But torturing a woman with _amnesia_ for answers she can’t provide is perfectly okay with you,” Jane said caustically. “Quite an interesting moral compass you have there.”

“I took an oath to defend this country,” Keaton shot back. “And whoever you are now, Jane, you can’t deny that you were a member of a terrorist organization aiming to bring down our government.” He was silent for a moment to let that sink in. “Look, despite my flip attitude, I didn’t enjoy torturing you. It still . . . bothers me. I believed at the time that it was necessary, but if I had it to do over again . . .” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Jane.”

“That apology rings hollow when you come in here wanting to take my brother away to do the same thing to him,” Jane retorted coldly.

“Yeah, well . . .” Keaton drew a deep breath. “Roman’s situation is different than yours, Jane. He remembers. He _knows_ who Shepherd is and what Sandstorm is planning, where their bases of operation are. If we have any hope of stopping them, we _have_ to find out what he knows.”

“Actually . . .” Nas intervened. “Jane’s already convinced him to give us that information. Provided we bring down the people behind Orion. He believes Carter couldn’t have run it alone.”

“I had the same thought myself.” Keaton sighed heavily. “I’ve been looking into Orion quietly since Carter was killed, and I have my suspicions about who his accomplice might have been, but I haven’t been able to turn up a shred of evidence to prove it.”

“Why don’t you just haul them to a black site and waterboard them until they admit it?” Tasha asked snarkily.

Keaton smiled grimly. “Because . . . If I’m going to accuse my boss of treason and murder, I need a damn sight more than my suspicions.”

The room fell silent as they all stared at him. Patterson recovered her voice first. “You . . . you actually think that the _director of the CIA_ was in on this with Carter? _Why?”_

Keaton hesitated. “What I’m about to tell you doesn’t leave this room, got it? It could cost me and my family our lives.” He waited until they all nodded before he went on. “During the time that Orion was in operation, I noticed an increasing number of closed-door meetings between Carter and Director Collins that no one knew anything about.”

“That’s hardly proof that Collins was involved in Orion,” Reade interrupted skeptically. “The CIA is an organization built on secrecy, and it’s hardly uncommon for a superior to meet with their next-in-command.”

“True,” Keaton agreed, “but normally those meetings are a result of some intel we’ve generated, and either myself or some of our senior analysts have some idea what they’re about. Often, we even _attend_ those meetings. I started making discreet inquiries when we began getting cut out, and I’m convinced that nobody else knew what they were about either.”

“It’s still pure speculation,” Nas pointed out. “I’ll admit the timing is . . . coincidental, but they could have been discussing the weather or their favorite sports teams, for all you know. Do you have _any_ evidence at all that would back up your suspicions?”

“Nothing that would stand up in a court of law,” Keaton admitted. “But . . .” He paused abruptly.

“What?” Kurt demanded when Keaton glanced at Jane with an odd expression.

“When I told you in Bulgaria that I don’t normally get my hands dirty, but I wanted to know why Jane had your name tattooed on her back, that wasn’t quite the truth,” Keaton said. “I mean, obviously I wanted to get any information I could from Jane to stop Sandstorm, but it wasn’t my idea to take the lead on her interrogation. Collins suggested it because he said he needed a man he could trust to get answers.”

He took a deep breath. “Right before I left, Collins pulled me aside and ordered me to question Jane about Orion. He asked that if she remembered anything about it that I not put it in a report, but inform him immediately.”

Jane’s brow furrowed. “But you never asked me about Orion.”

“No,” Keaton said. “I didn’t. I figured it would be pointless, since you weren’t exactly communicative, but I told Collins that I had. I told him after you escaped that in my opinion, the effects of the ZIP were largely permanent, and you would probably never regain any more memories than you already had.”

Kurt went cold. “You think Collins thought Jane could link him to Orion somehow, and he was planning to have her killed if need be to keep her from implicating him.” He unconsciously scooted his chair closer to Jane’s, his grip tightening on her hand. “You were protecting her.”

“Yeah, well . . .” Keaton shrugged, seemingly embarrassed by the revelation. “Duty is one thing, but cold-blooded murder is another. I may step outside the lines you all find morally acceptable on occasion, but what the hell is the point of fighting to protect this country if I break the laws it stands for in the process?”

“That’s all well and good,” Jane said in a slightly less icy tone, “but it doesn’t get us any closer to bringing your boss to justice, does it?”

“Actually, it might,” Patterson spoke up. “Based on the scope of Orion, Collins and Carter couldn’t have met face-to-face _all_ the time. There’s bound to be an electronic trail between them. I’m sure Collins deleted any emails or documents relating to it, but if I can get access to the CIA’s computers, I’d bet my life that I can recover _something_ that will implicate him.”

“Which would be enough for Keaton to confront him with,” Kurt finished. “We can set up a sting and get him on tape admitting to it.” He fixed Keaton with a hard look. “Assuming that doesn’t violate any of your moral scruples.”

Keaton shook his head. “Give me a day or two to make arrangements to make sure my family is protected, and I’m on board. Let’s take the bastard down.”

Jane tuned the team out as they discussed a few more details, still running over this stunning turn of events in her head. If Keaton wasn’t playing them somehow—and surprisingly enough, she believed he was on the level—then by this time next week, this could all be over. By this time next week, she could be _free._ Most importantly, her child would be born into a much safer world.

The future she had been dreaming of was finally within her grasp.


	14. Chapter 14

The next forty-eight hours seemed to drag on interminably as they waited for Keaton to contact them. By unspoken but mutual agreement, Jane and Kurt avoided the office, except for her all-too-brief daily visits with Roman, using the time to empty out the spare bedroom and give it a thorough cleaning in preparation for building a nursery.

“What do you think of this?” Kurt asked the first evening as they cuddled together on the couch, turning his tablet so Jane could see what he was looking at.

Jane’s breath caught in her throat at the set of white baby furniture. “Oh, Kurt. It’s beautiful.” She winced as she caught sight of the price. “But can we afford it?” Kurt had suggested that Jane be paid a salary commensurate with other FBI consultants, but Pellington had firmly vetoed his request, insisting that the stipend Jane received for clothing and food was more than fair under the circumstances.

“Yeah,” Kurt reassured Jane. “This may come as a shock to you, but I’ve always been kind of a workaholic, and I’ve never had anyone to spend much of my money on before, so I’ve got a healthy nest egg saved up. And nothing’s too good for my little girl,” he added firmly as he brought a hand up to cover the slight swell of Jane’s stomach. She threaded her fingers through his, and they sat in companionable silence for some time. “You’re the artistic one of us. Have you thought about what color you’d like to paint the nursery?”

“Actually . . .” Jane drew out the word. “I was looking at pictures of nurseries online the other day, and I saw some with the cutest murals on the walls. I’d really like to do that for our baby.”

Kurt felt his eyes grow misty at the thought. “That’s an incredible idea, Jane. I’m sure she’ll love that.”

“We don’t know yet that the baby is a girl,” Jane reminded him. Though god, how she hoped it was, since he had his heart so set on it. “But I . . . I’ve been looking at baby names lately, and if she is a girl, I was thinking . . . hoping . . .” She took a deep breath. “How would you feel about naming her Bethany?”

The mist in his eyes turned to full-fledged tears. “That’s exactly the name I’ve been thinking about, but I didn’t want to suggest it in case you . . . I don’t want you to feel guilty every time you hear our daughter’s name because of what happened to Mayfair.”

“I won’t,” Jane assured him. “I mean, I’ll always regret my part in her death, and wish I had made better choices, but . . . I loved her too, Kurt. And I choose to believe that if she was here now, she’d understand that and forgive me, just as you have. And I can’t think of any better way to honor her life and legacy than to name our child after her. Or any better namesake for our child.”

“Then it’s settled,” Kurt said simply. “Our little girl will be Bethany Weller.”

“She’ll be the luckiest little girl in the world,” Jane murmured as she tightened her arms around Kurt, “to have you for a daddy.”

She spent the next day in their baby’s nursery, sketching out the mural that had taken shape in her mind—and then some—and laughingly shooing Kurt away when he tried to sneak a peek. “You can see it when it’s all done,” she informed him. “I don’t want to spoil the full effect.” She ignored his protests that he would be surprised nonetheless and sent him out to purchase the paint colors that she would need.

Their peaceful idyll was interrupted early on the morning of the third day when Patterson called to inform them that Keaton was at the office, and she had found something. “So it took some doing, but I managed to recover this deleted email from Carter to the Director,” she said without preamble as soon as the team entered her lab, putting it up on the screen.

“As per your suggestion, I engaged Orion Pest Control to deal with our frog problem,” Reade read. “It will be handled within twenty-four hours.” His brow furrowed. “Something tells me they’re not actually referring to frogs there.”

“Unless the CIA was overrun with a plague of frogs of biblical proportions, I think it’s safe to say they were referring to exterminating humans,” Zapata said sardonically.

“Exactly,” Patterson agreed. “Frogs are amphibious, just like SEALs, and since this email was sent right before Jane’s team was murdered, and she was left for dead, there’s no doubt in my mind that it’s confirmation of a kill order for them. Carter and the Director were trying to make sure that there were no loose ends that could come back to bite them.” She glanced at Jane. “Fortunately for us, they didn’t succeed.”

Kurt’s jaw clenched as he glanced at Keaton. “Is this enough for you to confront your boss with?”

“It’s not exactly a smoking gun, but I think I can make it work,” Keaton said. “Let’s take the bastard down.” He pulled out his phone and typed a series of messages to Director Collins, arranging to meet him privately at a CIA safe house nearby.

Collins was waiting on him when he arrived. “Keaton. What’s this about?”

“This,” Keaton said as he slapped a copy of the email down on the table in front of his boss. His soon-to-be _ex-_ boss. “It was sent to me this morning anonymously. Tell me that isn’t what I think it is.”

Collins smiled thinly as he picked the paper up and cast a quick glance over it. “Even if I did, you’re smart enough to know it would be a lie. Look, Jake, I can see you find this upsetting—”

“ _Upsetting?”_ Keaton demanded. “You engaged a team of Special Forces operatives to carry out unsanctioned missions, and then murdered them to cover it up. There was no need for that. The SEALs are the best of the best; they would never have talked.”

“Maybe not,” Collins allowed, “but I couldn’t take that chance, and I think when you take a moment to think it over, you’ll understand why I had to act as I did. You’re a company man, Jake, through and through. And the company had to be protected from those potential loose ends.”

Keaton’s jaw tightened as he glanced away. He could feel Collins’ eyes on him, willing him to understand, and he swallowed down the horror he felt enough to manage a jerky nod.

“Good man,” Collins praised. “Now, I know this is difficult, but since you’re up to speed now, there are a couple more loose ends I need you to tie up for me. The person who sent you this email obviously needs to be dealt with, as soon as we can track them down, but first . . .” He took a deep breath. “I need you to finish the job Carter started. I need you to kill Jane Doe.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Keaton demanded. “Jane Doe isn’t some nameless, friendless amnesiac any longer; she’s the wife of the _Assistant Director of the FBI._ The _pregnant_ wife. Killing her would trigger a massive investigation, and trust me, Kurt Weller wouldn’t rest until her killers were apprehended. The CIA doesn’t need that kind of scrutiny.”

Collins shrugged. “A woman with Jane’s past has plenty of enemies. If you play it right, Jake, one of them can take the fall for it, and Weller will never be the wiser. And you’ll be doing him a favor in the long run. He might be besotted with her now, but that woman is definitely not wife and mother material, and he and their child would just wind up suffering for it.”

Whatever Keaton would have said to that was lost in the commotion as the man under discussion burst into the room and yanked Collins up from the table by his throat. “How dare you pass judgment on a woman who’s worth a million of you?” he seethed. “My wife is the most compassionate, loving person I’ve ever met, and she’s going to make an _amazing_ mother. You’re the one not fit to inhabit this earth a moment longer.” His grip tightened on Collins’s windpipe as he spoke.

“Kurt!” Zapata said sharply as Collins’s face began to turn purple. “Stop! He’s not worth it.”

Kurt’s grip tightened for one more second before he shoved Collins away from him. “Very sensible, Director Weller,” Collins sneered.

“If it was up to me, I’d have kept squeezing until you never took another breath,” Kurt retorted icily. “But Jane wouldn’t like that, and I’m determined to be the better man she’s made me. Besides . . . we’ve got you on tape admitting to illegal use of the US military, murder, and conspiracy to commit murder. You’re going down, Collins.” He glanced at Reade. “Cuff him and read him his rights.”

“You disappoint me, Keaton,” Collins said when Reade was finished. “We could have done great things together, you and me. I thought you understood the value of loyalty. I thought you were a company man.”

“I am a company man,” Keaton fired back. “And I look forward to doing great things to keep this nation safe, but not at the expense of other people who have dedicated their lives to protecting it. If I’ve learned one thing from you, Collins, it’s that the ends _don’t_ justify the means, and going forward, I intend to do everything in my power to ensure that the men and women in uniform who act on the intel we generate are never again viewed as expendable. I intend to make the CIA a place where each employee can come to work every day and feel a sense of pride in what they’ve accomplished.”

Collins smirked. “Good luck with that. You’re going to need it when the people you plan to lead find out you betrayed their boss. Now since I’m entitled to a lawyer, I’d like my phone call.”

“When we get back to the office,” Kurt said tightly, clenching his fists as he resisted the urge to finish what he’d started and wipe this scourge off the face of the earth.

Jane was waiting when they stepped off the elevator, and Kurt pulled her into his arms without hesitation, cradling her head to his shoulder and burying his nose in her hair to breathe in her scent. “God, what would I ever do without you?” he asked in a choked voice, uncaring of who might overhear.

“I’m okay, Kurt,” Jane murmured, tightening her arms around him in reassurance. “We’re all okay. The good guys won today.”

“Yeah.” Kurt held onto her a moment longer before stepping back. “Let me walk Collins down to holding and take care of the paperwork, and then we’ll go let Roman know.”

“Weller?” Pellington boomed as he strode over to them, his expression thunderous. “What the hell is going on? You’ve arrested the Director of the CIA?”

Collins smirked. “Apparently, your Assistant Director and mine conspired to get rid of me so Keaton could take over. You’d better watch yourself, Sam, or you could be next.”

“Director Collins confessed to murdering a SEAL team to cover up his illegal use of them, and then ordered Keaton to finish the job by killing Jane,” Nas spoke up. “I’d say it was long past time he was removed from his position.”

“This younger generation,” Collins continued without acknowledging Nas. “They’re too squeamish to make the hard calls. They don’t understand that sometimes people have to die for the greater good.” His gaze drifted from Pellington to Jane as he spoke, and then back again.

Pellington’s mouth tightened. “You do realize I'm going to have to call the President and inform him what’s going on. Why the hell wasn’t I given a heads-up beforehand?”

“It was a . . . rapidly unfolding situation,” Nas fibbed, seeing Weller at an apparent loss for words. “Keaton received an anonymous email this morning that appeared to implicate Director Collins in the SEALs deaths and came to us for help, and we acted accordingly.”

“And it’s a good thing we did,” Zapata spoke up, “before Collins got wind of what was going on and ordered someone less scrupulous than Keaton to take out Jane.”

“Ah yes, Ms. Doe,” Pellington said. “I might have guessed that you would be at the center of this.”

“Actually, it’s Jane _Weller_ now,” Jane corrected proudly.

“And it’s hardly _my wife’s_ fault that some unscrupulous bastard she probably never even met ordered her murdered for events she’s never going to remember,” Kurt said heatedly as he wrapped a protective arm around Jane, glaring at first Collins and then Pellington. He didn’t know what his boss’s problem was with Jane, but if things didn’t change soon, he would be looking for a new line of work.

Pellington simply nodded. “Well, I suppose I’d better give the President a heads-up before the press gets wind of this.”

“While you’re taking care of the paperwork, I’m going to run down the street and get an ice cream cone,” Jane said to Kurt. “I’ve been craving one all day. I’ll be back soon.” She kissed him on the cheek and headed to the elevator.

Kurt was still engrossed in that paperwork thirty minutes later when Briana burst into his office breathlessly. “Director Weller,” she gasped out.

“Really, Briana,” Kurt teased. “There was no need to run all the way back here from lunch. I’m getting my paperwork done, I promi—”

“Jane’s been kidnapped,” Briana interrupted when she could finally draw a deep breath, and Weller leaped up in alarm. “I saw her walking about half a block ahead of me when I finished lunch, and I was trying to catch up when a black van pulled up, and a couple men jumped out, and—”

“Take a deep breath, Briana,” Kurt said with a calm he was very far from feeling as tears welled in her eyes. He would have liked to cry himself, or interrogate her for details, but neither reaction would be helpful right now. “Where did this happen? Can you describe the men who took Jane?”

Briana shook her head helplessly. “I . . . I don’t think so. It all happened so fast. We were only a couple blocks from here, and everything was fine one second, and then the van screeched up, and . . . They just snatched her right off the street. It looked like they injected her with something before she even had time to react. They were driving away before I could even think to scream. I’m so, so sorry, Kurt.”

Kurt swallowed hard. “It’s not your fault, Briana.” He gave her shoulder a quick squeeze as he guided her out into the bullpen to fill the team in on what was happening.

“Collins is behind this somehow,” Zapata said immediately. “We just arrest him for conspiring to murder Jane, and then she’s snatched off the street? No way is that a coincidence.”

“That was my first thought as well,” Kurt agreed. “I’m going to give Keaton a call and see if he has any ideas how Collins could have pulled this off. Patterson, I need you to go through the security camera footage in the area and see if you can get a picture of these guys. Nas, Reade, Zapata . . .”

“I’ll assist Patterson with the camera footage,” Nas offered when the emotions of the moment finally overcame Weller. “Shepherd could be responsible for this as well, so Reade, Zapata, you guys go break the news to Roman and see if there’s anything he knows that can help us.”

Keaton was stunned to learn of Jane’s abduction. He’d been driving back to the CIA, but he whipped a U-turn before Weller even finished his first sentence, and arrived at the NYO just in time to hear Patterson announce, “I’ve got something.”

“This is from the bodega on the street corner where Jane was taken.” Patterson pulled up the video, and they all watched in horror as she was drugged and pulled roughly into the van. “Like Briana said, it all happened so quickly that there’s only a few seconds of video, but I did manage to enhance it and get an image of one of the men’s faces. This is who we’re looking for.” She put the image up on the screen. “I’m running the photo through facial recognition now, but so far, no hits.”

“You won’t get any,” Keaton informed them grimly. “They’re CIA. That’s Charlie Myers, and I’m guessing the guys with him are his brother Robby and their friend, Tommy Miller. They’re Collins’s go-to team for things like this. He must have used his phone call to contact them.”

“That’s impossible,” Kurt said in puzzlement. “We’re still in the process of booking him, so he hasn’t had a phone call yet.”

Keaton’s brow furrowed. “Then he must have gotten word to someone else to call them. I’ve never cared for these guys, or their methods, but they’re not complete loose cannons. They wouldn’t have acted without being ordered to do so.”

“But they will kill Jane,” Kurt surmised.

Keaton nodded. “The one advantage we have right now is that they were no doubt expecting it to take longer for us to realize Jane was missing, but if someone in this office is in contact with them, that won’t hold for long. We need to find her—fast.”

“Can you track the van?” Kurt asked Patterson.

She grimaced. “I’m trying, but these guys are driving pretty erratically, and—Hold on.” She blew out a breath as she read the alert that had just popped up on her screen. “The NYPD is reporting a vehicle matching the van’s description abandoned in the Queens-Midtown Tunnel.”

“You can send a forensics team out to take charge of it, but these guys are pros,” Keaton commented. “It will be a dead end.”

“Maybe if we can figure out who the leak is in this office, they’ll give up these guys’ location,” Reade suggested.

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Patterson said. “Whoever it was would have had to know not only that we arrested Collins, but also that Jane was going out for ice cream. And given the incredibly short window of time between Jane leaving the office and her abduction, they would have had to call these guys as soon as they got their number from Collins, but I checked the camera feed in holding, and no one has gone near his cell since Reade and Zapata put him in there.”

“So whoever it was already knew these guys’ phone number,” Kurt said grimly. “And had to be fairly close to us to hear Jane announce where she was going.” He glanced around the bullpen as if expecting the traitor to leap up and confess under his hard gaze, but he frowned as he surveyed the layout and realized no one had been close enough to where they had been standing to overhear.

Nas had come to the same realization and been hit with a very uncomfortable conclusion. “There is one other person besides us who knew enough to set this in motion. Director Pellington. And he’s certainly made no secret of his dislike of Jane.”

“Pellington’s an ass, sure, but it’s a long way from that to _murder,”_ Reade pointed out, the voice of reason. “And what reason would he have to want Jane dead?”

“Let’s ask him,” Kurt said in a hard voice. He led the way to Pellington’s office, but their boss was nowhere to be seen. “Patterson.”

“On it.” Patterson took a seat at the desk and pulled up the building’s security feeds on the computer. “Okay. Pellington came straight in here and made a quick phone call, and then left again almost immediately.” She tracked him through the building to the elevator. “He left here less than ten minutes after Jane.”

A phone call to the President certainly wouldn’t have been quick. “Who did he call?” Kurt growled, asking for the number more than the recipient’s identity. There was no longer any doubt in his mind that Pellington was behind this.

Patterson was already working on that. “It looks like a burner cell. Let me see if I can get a location.” She could feel Weller’s gaze practically burning a hole through her as she typed. “Got it.” She rattled off an address in Queens.

“That’s a CIA safe house,” Keaton spoke up as Weller ordered the team to gear up. “I’m going with you. I know the layout, and these guys won’t go down easy, so you could use the backup. And I . . . I figure I owe Jane one.”

“More than one,” Kurt agreed, tamping down the automatic refusal that sprang to his lips. “I have to get her— _them—_ back in one piece, Keaton.”

“I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure that happens,” Keaton reassured. “I’m a husband and father myself, so I know there’s nothing more important than family. And you married a strong lady, Weller. If anyone can help get herself out of this situation, it’s Jane.”

 _If she were still alive to do so,_ Kurt thought grimly, but he banished that thought as quickly as it had come. He couldn’t— _wouldn’t_ —accept any other outcome. He was silent the entire drive, appreciating Reade and Zapata’s continued reassurances, but hyper-focused on the task at hand. He wouldn’t draw an easy breath until his wife was back in his arms once more.

They parked two blocks away in an office complex, on Keaton’s recommendation, and split into two groups, he and Keaton approaching from the alley in the rear, while Reade, Zapata, and Nas cautiously worked their way into position in the front. Apparently these guys really weren’t worried about being found yet, because none of them were acting as a lookout.

Kurt took a deep breath when everyone was in position and extracted a flash bang from his vest. _I’m coming, love._ “On my count. Three . . . two . . . one . . .” He kicked the door in and tossed the grenade inside. “FBI,” he called out as they entered, registering a brief moment of surprise on Tommy Miller’s face before he went for his gun. Kurt took him out without hesitation, as gunshots rang out simultaneously from the front of the house.

“Weller,” Zapata said over the comms. “The Myers brothers are dead. Pellington was shot in the shoulder, but it went clean through, and Reade is calling for an ambulance for him now. There’s no sign of Jane though.”

Kurt took a deep breath, his desire to charge upstairs and choke the life out of his boss— _former_ boss—taking a backseat to his concern for his wife. “Okay. Stay with him. Keaton and I will clear the rest of the house.” He kept his gun at the ready as they exited the kitchen, just in case there was another accomplice they hadn’t identified. He glanced at Keaton as they came to another door off the hallway.

“Basement,” Keaton said in response to Weller’s unasked question.

Kurt flung open the door, and his heart stopped as he spotted Jane lying face down and motionless on the bare concrete floor. “No! Jane!” He holstered his weapon without a thought to his safety and rushed down the stairs. He rolled her over, relieved to see no trace of blood, and he felt a surge of anger when he saw the shock collar adorning her neck. His hands were shaking as he reached for her wrist, and he exhaled in relief as he felt the steady beat of her pulse beneath his fingers. “Jane, honey.” He shook her shoulder gently. “I’m here, and you’re safe now. Wake up. Please.”

“We got here pretty quickly,” Keaton mentioned when she didn’t stir. “Whatever drug they gave her probably hasn’t worn off yet.”

Kurt scooped Jane up in his arms and carried her back up the stairs to where the team was waiting. “You put a shock collar on my _wife?”_ he growled at Pellington with such fury that the injured man shrank back. “Did you use it on her?” He’d read reports of women suffering miscarriages after being tased—though experts were divided on the correlation between the two.

Not that it would matter much to them _why_ if the worst happened.

“No,” Pellington said grudgingly. “I had some questions I wanted answered, and the shock collar was just insurance to make sure Jane behaved herself.”

“Because you knew she could take all of you in a fair fight, even pregnant,” Zapata sneered. “ _Coward.”_

Keaton knelt down and began rifling through the dead men’s pockets until he found the key for the damn thing. He quickly removed the offending device from Jane’s neck and tossed it aside as if it had burned him.

“ _Why?”_ Kurt asked hoarsely. “Just tell me that. Look at me,” he demanded when Pellington glanced away. “You owe me that at least. What does Collins have on you that convinced you to go along with this?”

Pellington snorted. “I’m not denying that Collins has information on me that I would prefer never to see the light of day, but he didn’t need to coerce me into trying to eliminate one of the greatest threats to the safety and security of this nation. And I tried, I _really_ tried to help you see that, all of you, but she’d pulled the wool over all of your eyes.” He shook his head. “Like I told you when I first found out you’d gotten Jane pregnant, she isn’t a woman you can play house with, Weller. She’s a killer.”

“The person she was _before_ was a killer,” Kurt corrected fiercely. Jane stirred in his arms, moaning slightly, but she still didn’t awaken, and he tightened his hold on her, cradling her closer to his chest. “That’s a life Jane doesn’t remember, and never will. She—”

“And what if she does?” Pellington interrupted. “It’s one thing for you to gamble your and your child’s future on that possibility, but if you’re wrong, if Jane does remember her past and revert to being Remi, there’s no _telling_ how many lives could be lost. That’s not an acceptable risk, Weller. I’d hoped I could get you to see that.”

“And do what?” Kurt fired back. “Allow you to hand her back over to Collins to torture and kill on the off chance that she _might_ do something wrong again someday? You say you want to protect this country, but that runs contrary to every principle it was built on. And what about our _child?”_

Pellington attempted to shrug and winced as pain shot through his injured shoulder. “I’m not completely heartless, Weller. I could see the feelings you had for Jane were real, so Collins and I talked it over and agreed that we would make sure no harm came to her while she was carrying your baby. That way, you would always have your child to remember her by.”

The team gasped in unison, and the room went deathly silent as tension crackled dangerously. Kurt’s eyes narrowed to slits as he leveled a death glare at Pellington and his hold reflexively tightened on Jane, but he forced himself to relax his grip before he left bruises. He took one deep breath, then another, before he could trust himself to speak. “Reade, Zapata, follow the ambulance to the hospital,” he ordered, deliberately turning his back on Pellington. He hoped to god he never had to lay eyes on him again in this life. “It’s probably best not to put him in handcuffs just yet, but don’t let him out of your sight. I’ll ride back to the NYO with Nas and Keaton and notify Deputy Director Hirst of what’s going on.”

He walked out of the house without a backwards glance, and his gaze never wavered from Jane’s face as he carried his semi-conscious wife the two blocks to the SUV.


	15. Chapter 15

Jane had grown increasingly quiet as the day progressed, and Kurt was growing increasingly concerned about his wife. She had regained consciousness halfway to the NYO, and the absolute trust in her eyes as she said that she knew he’d come for them had squeezed his heart. And then she’d demanded to know what happened to her, and the look in her eyes as he recounted what Pellington said had rent it completely in two.

He’d hoped to pull her aside to talk it out once they reached the NYO, but dealing with the fallout from Collins’s and Pellington’s arrests had unfortunately taken up most of his day. The few times they could have had a moment alone together, she’d been nowhere to be found.

It was after four before he was finally able to go in search of her. He found her downstairs in Roman’s cell, and the two of them stood as he entered. Roman surprised him by extending a hand as Jane moved to his side.

“Thank you,” Roman said to Kurt with heartfelt gratitude as he shook hands with his brother-in-law. “Thank you for saving my sister. I knew Collins was dirty, but I had no idea Pellington was in league with him, or I would have warned you. I never would have put Jane in danger like that.”

“I know,” Kurt reassured, and was relieved to see Roman’s shoulders relax slightly. “Eleanor Hirst was appointed Acting Director of the FBI, and she’s flying in tomorrow to discuss your situation. I’m hoping to get you a deal similar to Jane’s, but I can’t guarantee that, since you did kill those six cops.”

Roman nodded slowly. “I understand. But I promised you Shepherd if you would prove to me that there was a better way to effect change. You kept your end of the bargain, so I’ll uphold mine, no matter what.”

“I appreciate that.” Kurt clapped a hand on Roman’s shoulder and considered it a win when his brother-in-law only stiffened slightly. “But keep that to yourself for now, okay? Jane and I would both like you to be around to see our child grow up, but I may need some leverage to make that happen, and Shepherd is a pretty big bargaining chip.”

“Understood,” Roman said with a faint smile. “And . . . thank you.”

“We should probably get going,” Kurt commented as he noticed Jane stifle a yawn. “It’s been quite a day, and tomorrow promises to be just as eventful. Try to get some sleep, Roman. Director Hirst will no doubt be here first thing in the morning, so as soon as I know something, you’ll know.”

“Thank you,” Roman said once more as he hugged Jane good night.

Jane said little on the drive home, seemingly lost in thought, and Kurt was content to let the silence linger until he could focus his entire attention on the cause of it. Jane toed off her shoes and dropped down onto the couch as soon as they entered the apartment, and Kurt took a seat beside her, resisting the urge to pull her into his arms so that she could see his face and know how deadly serious he was.

“Pellington was wrong about you, you know,” he told her, taking her hands in his and squeezing gently. “Whatever mistakes you made in the past, you’re an amazing woman with the strongest moral compass of anyone I’ve ever known. And you’re going to make an _incredible_ mother. Pellington would have known that if he’d made the slightest effort to get to know you, instead of judging you for misdeeds Shepherd brainwashed you into believing were right.”

“But what if he’s right?” Jane asked anxiously. “What if I get my memories back, and remember why I was who I was, and revert back to that? You and our child would both be tainted by your association with me, and I love you too much to let that happen.”

“It won’t,” Kurt said with complete confidence. “The very fact that you’re worried about that possibility, and the effect your actions could have on your loved ones, tells me that. But if you need further proof, look at your brother. Roman is too hard a sell for you to convince to abandon everything he’s been taught his entire life if you didn’t believe with every fiber of your being that our way of effecting change is the right way. You’re a different person now, Jane, and no amount of old memories will ever change that.”

Jane smiled mistily at Kurt before throwing herself into his arms. “You always know the right thing to say,” she murmured. “Just . . . promise me if you’re wrong, that you’ll put our baby’s well-being ahead of anything else, even if that means taking our child away from me.”

“That’s the easiest promise I’ll ever have to make,” Kurt said as he cradled Jane’s head to his chest. “Because I’ll never have to follow through with it. Now . . . what say I whip us up some dinner, and then we call it an early night? I’m sure you could use some rest after being drugged again.”

“I was a little surprised you didn’t drag me to Dr. Grant’s for a checkup again,” Jane teased as she followed Kurt to the kitchen to throw together a salad to go with the spaghetti he was making.

“It was all I could do not to,” Kurt admitted. “But given what Pellington said about keeping you healthy until our child was born, I figured it was a safe bet that they hadn’t used a drug that would harm the baby, and to be honest . . . You’ve been kidnapped and drugged twice in just over a week, and I don’t want Dr. Grant to think I’m not capable of taking care of you. I’m getting really _sick_ of people trying to take you away from me.”

“You got us back safe and sound both times,” Jane pointed out, cupping Kurt’s jaw tenderly as he rested his arms on the counter opposite her and smiling when he leaned into her touch. “And I’m sure those days are behind us now. We’ll catch Shepherd, and then we can get back to preparing the nursery, and before we know it, our baby will be here.”

“Little Bethany Jane,” Kurt smiled with the special grin that lit up his face anytime he thought of his impending fatherhood. “I can’t wait.”

Jane was startled. “Bethany . . . Jane?”

“It has a certain ring to it, don’t you think?” Kurt asked. “And I can’t think of anything I’d like more than for our daughter to carry the names of two of the women who have changed my life for the better.”

“And if we’re not having a girl?” Jane asked hesitantly.

Kurt shrugged. “Then we’ll find an equally amazing boy’s name. _Not_ Edgar,” he added quickly as he spotted the teasing glint in Jane’s eyes. “And . . . we can always try again until we get a girl.”

“Or a boy, if it’s a girl,” Jane responded huskily as the image of a miniature Kurt flashed through her mind. “I want at least two kids, Kurt.”

“We can have as many as you want, Jane,” Kurt promised, his heart lightening at the prospect of realizing his long-ago dream of having a large brood. For the first time in his life, he felt happy and optimistic when he thought about the future.

That optimism faced its first challenge when the team sat down with Director Hirst to discuss Roman’s fate. Hirst was openly skeptical that Roman would give up Shepherd, and Reade and Zapata weren’t shy about agreeing with her.

“Roman’s already killed six cops,” Zapata pointed out. “ _And_ he took part in Shepherd’s plan to lure us into a trap. Who’s to say he won’t feed us information to lead us into another ambush?”

“Roman turned on Shepherd,” Kurt said through gritted teeth as Jane stiffened beside him. “And considering he shot her to save Jane’s life, I think it’s safe to say there’s not any love lost between them any longer.” Not that there ever had been.

“Or they set that up as a ploy for Roman to gain our trust,” Zapata fired back. “Maybe Shepherd needs a new Trojan horse now that Jane is on our side.”

“Do you really think I haven’t considered that?” Kurt demanded in exasperation. “I wouldn’t even consider putting us, other cops, or innocent civilians at risk if I wasn’t one hundred percent convinced that Roman is on the level.”

“That’s quite an about-face from the way you felt when he first showed up,” Reade commented. Weller glared at him, and he held his hands up. “I’m just saying I think you need to consider the possibility that your feelings for Jane and your gratitude to Roman for saving her life are clouding your judgment on this.”

“Okay,” Nas spoke up as the tension in the room ratcheted up several notches. “We all want the same thing, to stop Sandstorm before they can execute whatever attack they’re planning, so why don’t we all take a deep breath and figure out the best way to do that.”

“We may want the same thing, but I can’t in good conscience even _consider_ releasing Roman until I’m convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that he doesn’t pose a danger to the public any longer,” Hirst said with finality. “And that whatever information he gives us isn’t going to cost more of my agents’ lives.”

Nas nodded. “I’ve been giving that a lot of thought, actually, and I have an idea. The NSA has a psychiatrist whose job it is to evaluate the mental state of . . . sources of intel, and the reliability of the information they’re providing. With your permission, Director Hirst, I’d like to call Dr. Sun in.”

“Do it,” Hirst said at once. “Immediately. If Roman is on the level, we need to act on his intel before Shepherd can move her base of operations.”

“You’re actually considering making Roman a deal?” Zapata was incredulous. “He _killed_ six cops!”

“I’m aware of that, Agent Zapata.” Hirst sighed. “Letting a cop killer go free doesn’t set well with me, but who knows how many more of us or innocent civilians will die if we don’t stop Shepherd. And as I see it, she’s ultimately the one responsible for those cops’ deaths, since she turned Roman into a killer, instead of getting him the help he needed to deal with the trauma in his life. But if he’s being honest with us, I’m going to do my damndest to see he gets that help now, so that he can have a chance for once in his life.”

“Thank you,” Jane mouthed to Hirst as her eyes welled with tears at the woman’s defense of her brother.

“We’ll pick this up as soon as Ms. Kamal’s psychiatrist evaluates Roman,” Hirst said in dismissal, and the team began to file out of her office. “Weller, Jane, a word.”

Jane and Weller sat back down, and Hirst glanced down at some papers on her desk before directing her gaze at Jane. “I was reading over your file on the flight here. Your deal with Pellington, with Nas Kamal, it essentially makes you a prisoner of the FBI, but once this Sandstorm mess gets cleaned up, you’ll be freed of any further obligation. Have you given any thought to your future?”

“My future is with Kurt and our child,” Jane said immediately, reaching for his hand as she glanced over at him.

“Your personal future, yes,” Hirst agreed. “I’m referring to your professional one. Look, Jane—” she leaned forward to rest her elbows on her desk, “—what I said about your brother a few minutes ago applies to you as well. Neither of you has ever gotten to make your own choices about your lives, so I’m offering you that opportunity now. If you want nothing more than to spend the rest of your life being a wife and mother, there’s certainly no shame in that, but if you’re interested in continuing to put your skills to use and helping people, I’d love to see you make a career here at the FBI.”

Jane’s mouth dropped open, and she glanced from Hirst to Kurt and back again. “I realize the two of you will need to discuss this, so take your time. But regardless of what you decide, I’m going to ensure that you have access to the same professional help I’m going to make available to Roman to deal with any issues that arise from your past. I’m also approving the wage Kurt requested Pellington you be paid, and I’m making it retroactive. How does that sound?”

“Incredible,” Jane managed as she squeezed Kurt’s hand tightly. “Thank you so much, Director Hirst.”

“Yes,” Kurt added in a voice choked with emotion as they rose, stretching out a hand to shake Hirst’s. “Thank you.” He steered a stunned Jane out of Hirst’s office and back to his own. “Well. That was . . . unexpected.”

“Yeah.” Jane sank down on the futon Kurt had brought in for her as she struggled to wrap her head around the incredible opportunity she had just been offered. “So. What do you think?”

“I think it’s definitely something that you— _we_ —should consider,” Kurt said. “There’s no reason you can’t be a wife and mother _and_ have a kick-ass career, and I don’t think you’d be as happy as you deserve to be without putting your skills to use somehow.”

“Yes, but . . .” Jane hesitated. “I’m not sure I want to be in the line of fire any longer, Kurt. That’s all I’ve ever known, and it feels like it might be tempting fate to continue. I don’t want to go to work every morning wondering if I’ll make it home to you and our child that night.”

Kurt couldn’t contain the shudder that racked him at the thought. “And I’m not sure I could handle watching you go out into the field day after day without me. But honestly, the task force you’re a part of now is probably more dangerous than any assignment you’ll face in the future. Apart from the agents we’ve lost fighting Sandstorm, the most recent active-duty deaths have been due to training accidents or health issues as a result of 9/11.”

Jane nodded, seeming to mull over his words, and Kurt hesitated a moment before continuing. “And you wouldn’t have to go into the field any longer, if you didn’t want to. With your language skills, you could be a huge asset on the analyst side of the house, helping us to identify credible threats in time to stop them. Or . . . you could find another way of helping people entirely. Just because Hirst offered you a job here doesn’t mean you have to take it. You’re smart and determined enough to kick ass at any career you set your mind to.”

Jane felt tears well in her eyes at Kurt’s unfailing support, and she hugged him fiercely. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Kurt murmured as he buried his face in Jane’s hair, breathing in her scent. “So much. And don’t worry about Roman. Everything will work out, you’ll see. I have a feeling things are finally about to turn around for us.”

Jane closed her eyes, resting her head against Kurt’s chest as she basked in the comfort of his arms and the optimism of his words.

And in that moment, she had absolutely no doubt that their future would be as bright as he predicted.

xxx

Dr. Sun arrived shortly after three, and Kurt and Jane hustled her down to see Roman as soon as they’d completed the requisite niceties of greetings. As per Hirst’s orders, they hadn’t notified him that she was coming, and he rose as they entered their cell, glancing at the newcomer in confusion.

“Roman, this is Dr. Sun,” Jane introduced. “She’s . . . she’s a psychiatrist that the FBI brought in to evaluate you before we can move forward with a deal.”

“Hello, Roman,” Dr. Sun said as she extended her hand. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

Roman crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Dr. Sun. “Save it. I don’t need a shrink. And if you think that nice-guy act is gonna get me to open up to you, think again.”

“Roman!” Jane expostulated.

Dr. Sun held up a hand. “It’s fine, Mrs. Weller. I get that all the time. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to speak to Roman in private, please.” She waited until Jane and Weller reluctantly exited before continuing. “You may not want to talk to me, Roman, but the FBI won’t make a deal with you until you do. And if you refuse and Shepherd succeeds in whatever she’s planning, you’ll be held accountable for any more lives she takes. Is that what you want?”

Roman smirked. “You’re barking up the wrong tree if you think that will bother me, Doc. I’m a killer, or haven’t you heard?”

“Then why did you save Jane from Shepherd?” Dr. Sun countered.

“I _should_ have let Shepherd kill Jane,” Roman responded resentfully. “She not only turned her back on the values we stood for, but she attempted to infiltrate us to betray us to her new friends. She deserved to die for that.”

“And yet when Shepherd placed the gun in your hand, you pulled the trigger on her, instead of Jane,” Dr. Sun persisted. “Why is that?”

“Everything happened so fast, I . . . I don’t know. I just acted.” Roman glanced away, refusing to meet Dr. Sun’s eyes.

“I think you do know,” Dr. Sun said gently. “You may not have taken the time to think it out, but something prompted you to act as you did. It’s important that you tell me what that is.”

“What difference does it make?” Roman muttered. “It’s not like I can go back and change it.”

“Do you believe you would if you could? I don’t,” Dr. Sun informed Roman when he hesitated. “I saw your face when I walked in here with Jane. It’s clear to me that you love her very much. And if I’m not mistaken, that’s her sonogram photo on the table beside your bed.” For the first time, she saw an emotion in Roman’s eyes other than anger, and she pressed her advantage. “Is that why you spared Jane? Because she’s pregnant?”

Roman’s gaze drifted to the sonogram photo. “ _Yes,”_ he ground out as his eyes grew moist. “Jane started pleading with me when Shepherd gave the order to kill her, begging me to spare her unborn child, and I . . . I pictured her with her son, and I knew what his life would be like without her, and I . . . I just couldn’t do it. That kid didn’t ask for any of this, and it’s not his fault.” He sat down on his cot and rested his face in his hands as his shoulders began to shake with sobs.

Dr. Sun slowly lowered herself to the cot next to Roman as he continued to weep, and she hesitantly placed a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. “It’s okay,” she murmured over and over. “It’s going to be okay, Roman.”

Roman’s eyes were red-rimmed as he looked over at her with a cynical smile. “You can’t . . . you can’t know that.”

“But I do,” Dr. Sun said with absolute certainty. “Because despite the fact that it went against everything you’d been conditioned to believe in, despite years of abuse and brainwashing and trauma, when push came to shove, you chose with your heart. You chose hope.”

She paused to let Roman absorb that. “Do you want to know why I believe the image of Jane’s child affected you so powerfully?” She waited until Roman nodded before continuing. “That baby represents the innocent child you were before your own parents were killed. Before Shepherd took you in. That’s why you envisioned the baby as a boy.”

Roman blew out a breath as he leaned back against the wall. “I was so young when my parents were killed that I barely have any memories of just being a kid. I wanted—I _want_ —better for Jane’s baby. I want him—or her—to have a normal childhood, and that can’t happen as long as Shepherd is on the loose. Every second that she’s out there is a second that Jane and this child are still in danger. So please . . . tell Director Hirst that I’m on the level before it’s too late.”

“I’m going to recommend to the FBI that they make a deal with you,” Dr. Sun said evenly, “but please understand, that doesn’t mean you’ll be leaving this cell anytime soon, Roman. In my opinion, you need professional help to deal with the traumas in your past, as well as your guilt over your perceived betrayal of Shepherd, before you’re turned loose into society again. I’m going to give the FBI a few names of therapists who specialize in cases like yours, and I hope you’ll take full advantage of their help. After all, if you really want Jane’s baby to have a normal childhood, you’ll get that child’s Uncle Roman healthy so he can be a big part of it.”

On that parting shot, she signaled to the guard outside that she was ready to leave and left Roman to think it over. The team was waiting in the conference room when she arrived back upstairs, Jane pacing anxiously despite Weller’s attempts to calm her, and Dr. Sun couldn’t hold back a slight smile at the joy on both their faces as she broke the news.

Whether Roman realized it or not, he had almost as staunch an ally in Weller as he did in his sister, and she hoped he would take full advantage of that and lean in to his recovery. She’d never met anyone who deserved this second chance more.


End file.
